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The  National  Dynamite  Plot 


William  J.  Burns 

The  man  who  secured  the  evidence  to  corroborate 
my  confession 


The 

National  Dynamite 
Plot 


BY  ORT1E  E.  McMANIGAL 


Being  the  authentic  account  of  the  attempts  of  Union 
Labor  to  destroy  the  Structural  Iron  Industry 


THE  NEALE  COMPANY 
Los  Angeles  Cal. 


Copyright  1913  by  William  H.  Durham. 
(All  rights  reserved.) 


.-  -      .:••  .   (.. 


FOREWORD 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  hope  that  I  send  this  book  into  the 
world.  The  book  is  written  with  a  purpose.  My  life  has 
been  blighted  by  the  shadow  of  the  vicious  labor  union  boss. 
I  have  spent  two  years  of  my  existence  in  jail  and  I  am  not 
at  liberty  now.  I  spent  four  years  of  my  life  destroying 
property  at  the  behest  of  the  leaders  of  labor,  so-called. 
Thus  six  years  of  my  life  are  accounted  for.  And  it  was 
only  a  matter  of  eleven  years  ago  that  I  joined  a  labor  union. 
Only  one  conclusion  is  possible.  Were  it  to  do  over  again, 
in  the  light  of  my  present  knowledge,  I  would  die  rather 
than  join  a  labor  union,  as  labor  unions  are  for  the  most 
part  at  present  conducted.  And  I  earnestly  advise  young 
men  earning  their  living  by  their  labor  to  study  well  the 
effect  of  unionism  upon  me  before  giving  their  allegiance 
to  any  organization  which  has  for  its  object  those  things  for 
which  most  present-day  unions  actually  stand,  (whatever 
their  pleas),  that  is  to  say,  violence,  disorder,  criminality 
and  destruction  of  life  and  property. 

There  can  be  but  one  result  to  the  nation  from  the  unions 
as  the  most  of  them  are  administered  today:  Either  the 
unions  will  wreck  the  government  and  lead  directly  to 
anarchy,  or  the  government  will  wreck  the  unions,  and  in 
the  disorder  that  will  ensue  on  the  one  hand  or  the  stern 
repressive  measures  which  must  be  adopted  on  the  other, 
the  rights  of  the  individual  may  be  crushed  along  with  the 


individual.  Unionism  properly  organized  and  conducted, 
will  result  in  great  good  to  the  nation,  to  the  laborer  and  to 
the  employer,  but  wrongly  conducted,  as  my  experience 
teaches  me  to  believe,  an  overwhelming  majority  of  labor 
unions  are  at  present,  it  will  destroy  everything  it  touches 
precisely  as  fire  destroys  paper. 

I  have  no  quarrel  with  any  labor  leader.  The  law  has 
written  "finis"  to  the  activities  of  those  with  whom  I  was 
associated  in  a  plot  to  destroy,  and  the  law  is  supreme. 
But  it  has  left  me  an  industrial  wreck  upon  the  shores  of 
human  endeavor,  and  to  me  will  be  led  scores  of  others  to 
share  my  lot  if  the  policies  of  destruction  and  the  power 
of  the  labor  bosses  is  allowed  by  the  laboring  men  to  go 
unchecked.  It  is  not  enough  that  the  labor  bosses  shall 
obey  the  law;  members  of  the  unions  must  make  the  bosses 
work  for  the  union  and  not  for  themselves.  If  you  are  not 
willing  to  do  your  best  to  see  that  they  do  this,  and  to  see 
that  your  fellow  members  also  do  their  best  to  secure  the 
same  end,  then  in  the  name  of  God,  don't  join  a  labor 
union. 

This  is  the  only  edition  of  this  work  authorized  by  me. 


Los  Angeles  County  Jail, 
Los  Angeles,  Cal., 
February  25,  1913. 


The  National  Dynamite  Plot 


I  am  not  yet  39  years  old.  I  was  born  at  Bioumville, 
Ohio,  and  when  I  was  four  years  of  age  my  mother  died.  F 
have  a  sister  two  years  my  junior.  We  were  reared,  chieily, 
by  my  mother's  father.  He  was  a  black  smith. 

I  left  school  in  1883,  when  I  was  ten  years  of  age.  Two 
years  later  I  went  to  work  in  a  stone  quarry  and  for  the 
next  seven  years  I  followed  this  work  at  Bloomville,  being 
employed  by  E.  H.  France  &  Sons,  and  Kchlcr  &  Ge;ger. 

While  engaged  at  this  work  I  learned  the  use  of  dynamite, 
an  accidental  training,  which  resulted  years  later  in  my 
selection  by  persons  of  whom  I  had  had  no  previous  knowl- 
edge, as  an  instrument  of  destruction  and  to  light  a  fire 
of  class  hatred  which,  had  it  been  allowed  to  run  its  course, 
would  have  resulted  in  disasters  greater  than  I  care  to 
contemplate. 

When  I  was  nineteen  years  old  I  went  to  Tiffin,  Ohio, 
where  my  father  had  a  stone  quarry,  and  there  worked  for 
him.  Later  he  closed  the  quarry  and  embarked  in  the  ice 
business.  For  some  time  I  drove  a  delivery  wagon  for  him 
and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Spanish-American  war  I  enlisted 
in  Company  "E",  Second  Ohio  Volunteers,  and  served 
eleven  months,  being  mustered  out  at  Macon,  Ga.,  without 
having  seen  active  service.  I  have  an  honorable  discharge. 

After  the  war  I  went  to  Milwaukee,  where  I  lived  with 
my  uncle,  George  Behm,  my  mother's  brother.  He  was 
a  locomotive  engineer,  employed  by  the  C.  M.  &  St.  P.  It 


was  he  who  called  upon  me  at  the  Los  Angeles  county  jail 
and  tried  so  hard  to  have  me  repudiate  my  confession  of 
guilt  in  the  dynamite  cases,  though  he  knew  that  I  was 
guilty.  Had  I  done  so,  nothing  but  ill  could  have  come  of 
it  for  me  as  well  as  for  my  family. 

Upon  my  arrival  in  Milwaukee  I  secured  work  in  a  stone 
quarry,  but  some  time  later  went  to  the  Allis  Chalmers 
shops  in  West  Allis,  a  suburb  of  Milwaukee,  where  the 
firm  of  Writer  &  Connelly  were  erecting  steel  work.  This 
was  my  first  experience  in  this  kind  of  work. 

I  was  running  a  hoisting  engine  on  this  job  which  was 
an  open  one.  There  were  many  union  men  working,  and 
agitation  to  organize  the  job  was  strong.  In  the  spring  of 
1902  I  joined  the  hoisting  engineers'  union.  The  agitation 
for  a  closed  shop  was  finally  successful  and  in  October  the 
job  was  organized.  This  was  my  first  acquaintance  with 
union  methods.  They  did  not  impress  me  greatly,  but  I 
joined,  and  paid  my  dues.  It  would  have  been  inconven- 
ient, and  probably  dangerous,  to  say  the  least,  to  do 
otherwise. 

From  West  Allis  I  went  with  the  same  company  back  to 
Milwaukee  to  erect  a  plant  for  the  gas  company.  While 
employed  on  this  job  I  became  a  member  of  the  Bridge  £ 
Structural  Iron  Workers'  union,  joining  Local  No.  8,  Mil- 
waukee, and  being  given  card  No.  5063.  I  now  had  two 
union  cards  and,  as  it  will  be  shown,  this  fact  was  another 
serious  accident  in  my  life,  for  it  lead  indirectly  to  the 
dynamite  plot. 

After  leaving  Milwaukee  I  went  to  Chicago  and  there 
I  married  with  Miss  Emma  Swantz.  The  wedding  took 
place  at  Melrose  Park,  May  8,  1901.  Of  this  union  there  are 
two  children,  a  girl  now  aged  nine  years,  and  a  boy  who 
will  soon  be  seven  years  of  age. 

10 


It  will  be  seen  from  the  foregoing  that  during  the  years 
prior  to  the  dynamite  plot,  which  resulted  in  paralyzing 
every  big  construction  plant  in  the  country,  frightening 
the  little  ones  into  unionizing  their  work  and  causing  the 
deaths  of  over  a  score  of  men,  I  was  a  normal  American 
citizen.  I  married  young.  I  became  a  good  workman  and 
was  never  long  without  employment.  I  was  sober  and 
industrious  and  when  later  H.  C.  Hockin,  international 
organizer  of  the  B.  &  S.  I.  W.,  and  J.  J.  McNamara,  inter- 
national secretary  of  the  same  organization,  put  about  my 
neck  the  rope  that  was  ultimately  to  ensnare  us  all,  my  wife 
stood  loyally  by  me,  discountenancing  the  crimes  but  shield- 
ing me  because  I  was  her  husband  and  the  father  of  her 
children.  This  she  did  until  we  were  caught.  Then,  thanks 
to  the  machinations  of  the  union  officials,  she  turned  against 
me  and  joined  my  uncle,  George  Behm,  in  unsuccessfully 
"third  degreeing"  me  in  the  Los  Angeles  county  jail.  I 
wish  to  say  here  that  this  was  the  only  ill  treatment  I  have 
received  since  my  arrest.  To  no  one  else  do  I  owe  a  harsh 
word. 

An  ironworker's  job  is  uncertain  in  point  of  duration. 
When  the  job  upon  which  he  is  employed  by  the  contractor 
is  finished  he  must  seek  new  work.  Therefore  it  is  fre- 
quently necessary  for  a  man  in  my  trade  to  travel  from  city 
to  city  seeking  work.  Such  was  my  experience  until  I 
returned  to  Chicago  in  May,  1905. 

In  Chicago  I  experienced  a  phase  of  unionism  which  I 
disliked.  Heretofore  union  methods  had  meant  little  to  me. 
I  had  seen  the  officers  work  for  the  union,  as  they  expressed 
it.  Frequently  their  "work"  was  brutal.  They  bullied  men 
into  joining  the  union  and  those  who  would  not  were  almost 
certain  to  find  themselves  in  frequent  fist  fights  in  which 

11 


the  odds  were  against  them  to  such  extent  that  they  had  no 
chance  to  escape  a  beating. 

Now,  however,  I  was  to  encounter  the  real  thing  in 
unionism — the  union  boss  who  sets  his  power  above  that 
of  the  government,  his  personal  desire  above  the  rights 
of  the  men  he  is  directing,  and  his  pique  above  justice.  I 
witnessed  a  piece  of  work  by  F.  M.  Ryan,  president  of 
the  I.  A.  of  B.  &  S.  I.  W.,  recently  convicted  of  com- 
plicity in  the  dynamite  plot  and  who  is  now  out  on  bail 
pending  appeal.  There  will  be  many  appearances  of  Mr. 
Ryan  in  these  pages. 

Shortly  after  my  arrival  in  Chicago  I  found  myself  out 
of  work  and  applied  to  Oscar  Daniels  &  Company  for  work 
as  a  bridgman  or  hoisting  engineer,  having  cards  in  both 
organizations.  I  left  my  address  care  of  William  O'Brien, 
care  Bridgmen's  Hall,  Chicago,  and  got  a  call  from  Dan- 
iels to  go  to  South  Bend,  Ind.,  as  a  hoisting  engineer.  When 
I  was  told  this  by  O'Brien  I  learned  that  Ryan,  then  busi- 
ness agent  of  the  Chicago  local,  wanted  to  see  me. 

I  entered  Ryan's  office  and  he  asked  to  see  my  bridg- 
man's  card.  I  gave  it  to  him  and  he  found  it  correct,  with 
dues  paid  in  advance. 

"You  carry  an  engineer's  card  also?"  he  said. 

I  told  him  that  I  did,  out  of  the  Milwaukee  local.  He 
became  angry  and  shouted  that  I  should  not  have  the  job 
at  South  Bend. 

"You  can't  hold  two  cards,"  he  declared.  "The  engineers 
are  protesting  against  bridgmen  running  engines,  and  I'm 
going  to  stop  it.  You'll  have  to  give  up  one  card  or  the 
other." 

Here  was  the  heated  iron  of  unionism  run  wild  and 
become  anarchic,  branding  its  victims  with  a  vengeance. 
The  very  soul  of  unionism,  as  I  had  understood  it,  was  the 

12 


holy  right  of  a  man  to  work.  The  leaders  declared  that 
they  were  elected  to  see  that  men  had  jobs.  They  denounced 
the  employers  who  would  not  unionize  their  shops  as 
despots  who  sought  to  deprive  the  workingman  of  his 
right  to  labor.  I,  who  had  two  cards  and  no  job,  however, 
must  not  work. 

Of  course,  I  could  have  thrown  up  the  bridgemen's  card 
and  working  under  the  engineer's  card,  taken  the  job.  There 
were  two  reasons  why  I  did  not  do  this.  One  was  that  I 
would  have  incurred  the  enmity  of  F.  M.  Ryan  and  perhaps 
some  day  a  bucket  of  red  hot  rivets  or  a  ton  or  so  of  iron 
would  have  fallen  onto  my  head  from  ten  stories  above. 
Then,  too,  the  bridgeman's  card  gave  me  employment  at 
better  wages. 

The  next  place  I  secured  employment  was  at  the  Illinois 
Steel  Company's  plant  at  South  Chicago.  My  family  was 
then  residing  at  414  South  Sangamon  street,  Flat  C-14, 
which  apartments  my  wife  and  children  are  still  occupying. 

It  was  on  this  job  that  I  saw  again  the  iron  hand  and 
ruthless  heel  of  F.  M.  Ryan  in  their  unmasked  nakedness. 
It  was  the  strike  that  Ryan  called  on  this  plant  in  the 
Spring  of  1907.  The  strike  is  still  in  progress. 

There  was  no  reason  for  that  strike.  There  was  no  jus- 
tice in  the  order  taking  the  men  from  their  jobs  and  the 
men  said  so  then  and  they  said  so  as  recently  as  two  years 
ago,  which  is  the  last  time  I  had  definite  information  from 
the  outside  world. 

A  word  about  this  strike. 

Lacking  a  grievance,  Ryan  created  a  reason  for  the 
strike.  The  Illinois  company  that  year  refused  to  sign  a 
contract.  They  had  refused  to  do  so  every  year.  They 
had  never  signed  one,  and  the  contract  had  been  for  years 
presented  to  the  company  merely  as  a  matter  of  form. 

13 


Every  union  man  on  the  job  was  satisfied  with  conditions, 
pay  and  hours.  The  union  was  satisfied,  but  Ryan  was 
not.  And  Ryan  had  the  authority.  He  declared  that  unless 
the  company  signed  he  would  call  a  strike.  The  company 
replied  by  pointing  to  its  past  record  for  fair  dealing.  The 
shop  was  manned  exclusively  by  members  of  the  union. 
None  other  could  get  a  job.  The  company  had  been  paying 
wage  scale  and  hiring  only  union  men.  "Johnny"  Jones, 
who  had  the  confidence  of  both  the  company  and  the  men, 
was  yard  superintendent,  and  the  company  agreed  to  let 
his  word  be  supreme  in  the  hiring  of  men.  Ryan  demanded 
a  signed  contract  or  a  strike.  The  company  refused  to 
sign  and  declared  that  if  the  union  went  out  it  would 
stay  out.  Ryan  called  the  strike  and  it  is  in  progress  yet. 
The  union  will  never  get  into  that  shop  again. 

So  much  for  the  justice  and  the  effectiveness  of  Ryan's 
leadership.  Ryan,  however,  is  a  man  of  iron.  This  made 
easy  his  rise  to  the  berth  of  international  president  of  the 
ironworkers,  and  at  this  writing  he  is  out  of  jail  on  bail 
fighting  for  re-election  to  that  office  with  a  splendid  chance 
of  winning. 

When  the  Illinois  strike  was  called,  many  of  us  in  Chi- 
cago were  forced  out  of  work.  With  Freddy  Zeiss,  a  friend, 
I  secured  a  job  in  Detroit  with  the  Oscar  Daniels  Company. 
Here  begins  my  career  as  a  dynamiter  for  the  international. 

It  will  be  seen  from  what  has  gone  before  that  accident 
has  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  my  life.  The  accident  of 
Ryan.  It  was  a  calamity.  It  seemed  to  have  been  fore- 
ordained, and  before  the  storm  I  have  bowed  my  head. 

The  calamity  started  when  Ryan  took  away  my  engin- 
eer's card.  This  prevented  me  leaving  Chicago.  Had  I 
left  it  is  probable  I  should  have  escaped  the  meshes  of  the 
plot  which  Ryan,  McNamara  and  the  others  were  even 

14 


then  concocting.  With  the  engineer's  job  gone  I  fell  back 
upon  the  bridgemen's  job  and  then  Ryan  took  that  from 
me  by  calling  the  strike.  I  left  for  Detroit  and  at  Detroit 
Hockin  was  waiting  for  me.  He  had,  doubtless,  been 
posted  by  Ryan.  At  any  rate,  he  knew  of  my  knowledge  of 
explosives  and  he  demanded  that  knowledge  in  the  service 
of  the  union !  And  behind  him  I  found  Ryan  the  iron- 
handed,  and  McNamara  and  the  others.  And  there  was 
no  escape  this  side  of  the  grave. 

I  do  not  say  this  in  extenuation.  Perhaps  I  should  have 
chosen  the  grave.  But  life  is  the  last  thing  man  quits 
naturally  and  it  is  the  thing  he  will  hold  to  at  the  cost  of 
everything  else.  The  average  man,  I  mean.  And  I  am 
only  an  average  man,  with  the  average  man's  desire  for 
life  and  pleasure,  for  the  welfare  of  his  wife  and  his  chil- 
dren, for  health  and  work  and  a  home.  These  were  staked 
against  death  and  I  chose  to  live. 

Unionism  or  a  regard  for  unionism  had  but  little  to  do 
with  making  up  my  mind  to  enter  the  dynamite  plot.  Hockin 
had  all  to  do  with  it.  It  is  to  my  shame  that  Hockin  and 
Ryan  and  J.  J.  McNamara  could  get  no  other  tool  than  me, 
save  J.  B.  McNamara,  to  do  the  work  in  a  satisfactory  man- 
ner. But  it  is  to  the  welfare  of  the  country  that  this  is  the 
case,  for  had  McNamara  had  all  the  men  he  wanted  to  carry 
out  his  plans  of  destruction  there  would  have  been  more 
steel  buildings  in  ruins  in  the  United  States  than  there  are 
now  standing. 

Zeiss  and  I  arrived  in  Detroit  on  May  13,  1907,  and  went 
to  work  on  the  Ford  building  the  following  Monday.  We 
were  both  on  the  derricks.  Harry  Anderson  was  foreman 
of  my  gang  and  Zeiss  was  under  "Big  Andy"  Anderson. 
Axel  Peterson  was  superintendent  of  construction,  and  a 
man  named  Tripps  was  timekeeper. 

15 


H.  S.  Hockin,  since  convicted  of  conspiracy  in  connection 
with  the  dynamite  plot  at  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  was  at  that 
time  secretary  of  Detroit  Local  No.  25,  Bridge  &  Structural 
Iron  Workers'  union.  On  three  days  of  each  week  he  was 
acting  as  business  agent,  the  local  not  being  strong  enough 
to  support  a  regular  business  agent  for  the  full  week. 

Detroit  was  then  an  open  shop  town  and  the  non-union 
men  were  in  the  majority.  Naturally  Hockin  was  provoked 
at  this,  for  Hockin  was  ambitious.  Hockin  saw  in  the  inter- 
national offices  at  Indianapolis  a  chance  to  shine  as  a  na- 
tional labor  leader  and  he  set  out  to  "do  something"  for 
the  union  that  would  result  in  his  election  as  an  international 
officer. 

Dynamite  was  to  be  his  means  and  I  was  to  be  his  tool. 

Hockin  visited  where  I  worked  every  day,  usually  at  noon. 
The  day  after  I  went  to  work,  he  scraped  an  acquaintance 
with  me,  introducing  himself.  After  that  we  conversed 
each  day.  He  constantly  complained  about  the  "scab  jobs" 
in  town,  and  painted  bright  hopes  for  the  future. 

Early  in  June  one  of  the  men  on  the  job,  I  never  knew 
his  name  and  had  never  spoken  to  him,  asked  me  if  I  was 
going  to  attend  the  regular  meeting  of  the  union,  to  be  held 
that  night.  It  was  not  my  custom  to  go  to  the  meetings, 
but  because  this  man  told  me  something  unusual  was  to 
take  place  I  went.  I  thought  that  this  unusual  event  was 
the  election  of  delegates  to  the  International  convention 
of  Bridge  &  Structural  Iron  Workers.  This  convention 
was  scheduled  for  New  Orleans,  but  was  later  changed  to 
Indianapolis.  Hockin  was  elected  as  one  of  the  delegates. 

For  me  this  was  not  the  unusual  event,  however.  This 
was  the  fatal  night  of  my  life — the  turning  point.  Hockin 
got  me. 

Before  the  meeting  ended  the  same  man  who  had  induced 

16 


me  to  attend,  told  me  that  after  the  regular  meeting  the 
executive  board  of  the  local  would  hold  a  meeting  and  that 
the  members  of  the  board  wanted  to  see  me. 

At  this  meeting  Hockin  and  two  other  members  were 
present.  I  asked  what  was  wanted  of  me.  Hockin  replied 
at  length.  He  said  the  board  was  desirous  of  unionizing 
several  Detroit  jobs  then  operating  under  the  open  shop 
method.  He  explained  at  some  length  the  operations  of 
several  "entertaining  committees"  he  had  sent  out,  but  de- 
clared their  efforts  had  resulted  in  no  good  to  the  union.  I 
should  explain  here  that  the  duty  of  those  committees  was 
to  lure  non-union  men  away  from  their  jobs  and  brutally 
assault  them.  There  was  nothing  said  about  not  killing 
them,  in  fact.  It  was  a  means  of  coercion  on  the  part  of 
the  union,  to  organize  the  non-union  men,  but  it  did  not 
work  well  among  bridgemen,  who  are  pretty  used  to  hard 
knocks.  Hockin  concluded  his  explanation  with  the  state- 
ment that  he  had  to  do  something. 

This  was  true.  He  had  to  do  something  or  lose  his  job. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  dissatisfaction  among  union  men 
over  the  country  at  conditions  in  Detroit  at  that  time.  This 
feeling  had  its  center  in  Chicago,  where  members  of  the 
union  had  been  taxed  $1  per  month  for  two  consecutive 
months  to  aid  the  Detroit  local  in  its  fight  against  the 
open  shop.  This  had  led  to  expressions  of  disgust,  although 
men  in  Detroit  were  paying  fifty  cents  a  week  for  this 
purpose.  So  great  was  the  feeling  that  the  Detroit  union 
had  threatened  to  issue  transfer  cards  to  all  Chicago  men 
working  in  Detroit,  and  forbid  them  to  work  there.  This 
method  of  "aiding"  a  union  man  is  not  an  unusual  pro- 
ceeding, of  course,  and  when  such  conditions  arise,  news 
of  them  leak  to  the  outside  and  assist  in  keeping  level- 
headed men  out  of  labor  unions.  This  the  labor  leader 

17 


realizes.  This  Hockin  had  realized  to  such  extent  that  he 
was  desperate.  And  in  that  desperation  lay  the  germ  of 
a  plot  which,  had  it  been  allowed  to  run  as  far  as  the  men 
at  its  head  would  have  run  it,  would,  in  my  opinion,  have 
destroyed  the  government  and  created  a  true  condition 
of  chaos  and  anarchy.  Nor  have  the  unions  been  purged 
of  the  idea  yet,  although  the  same  executives  are  no  longer 
at  hand  to  carry  on  the  work. 

I  asked  Hockin  what  there  was  that  I  could  do.  I  was 
only  a  member  of  the  union,  you  see,  a  man  who  took  but 
little  interest  in  its  affairs,  although  I  lived  up  to  the  rules 
at  all  times.  I  did  not  see  where  I  could  be  of  service  to 
the  local. 

"I  am  told  you  know  how  to  handle  dynamite,"  replied 
Hockin. 

This  startled  me.  A  number  of  explosions  had  occurred 
in  various  parts  of  the  country  and  I  had  heard  the  union 
blamed  for  them.  But  I  took  no  interest  in  the  stories  and 
no  stock  in  the  tales.  I  did  not  realize  then  that  the  open 
shop  was  a  serious  menace  to  unionism  or,  what  is  more 
important,  that  unionism  as  conducted  by  most  lead- 
ers of  the  movement  in  the  United  States  is  today  a  serious 
menace,  not  only  to  the  existing  government,  with  its  glor- 
ious and  patriotic  traditions,  but  a  menace  to  all  government 
and  all  liberty  of  the  individual  or  even  of  the  masses. 

"I  want  you  to  use  the  dynamite  which  I  am  going  to 
procure  as  I  direct  you  to  use  it,"  said  Hockin.  "I'm  going 
to  show  these  fellows  just  what  the  union  is.  I  want  this 
job  the  Russell  Wheel  Foundry  Company  is  putting  up  for 
the  Detroit  Gas  Company,  blown  up." 

This  staggered  me.  I  looked  at  the  three  men  and  even 
at  that  stage  I  felt  that  I  was  a  cornered  rat.  These 
men  had  the  power  to  take  the  bread  and  butter  from  the 

18 


mouths  of  my  children  and  I  knew  it.  I  wondered  if  they 
would  think  of  that.  They  did. 

"Why  did  you  choose  me?"  I  asked. 

"Every  other  Chicago  man  has  done  something  for  us, 
on  the  entertaining  committees  or  in  some  other  way,"  I 
was  told.  "It's  up  to  you  to  do  your  part." 

"I'll  see  you  at  the  job  tomorrow,"  said  Hockin  when  I 
replied  that  I  would  think  the  matter  over.  I  left  the  hall 
in  a  cold  sweat  and  that  night  I  slept  little.  In  the  morn- 
ing I  had  come  to  no  decision,  and  he  who  hesitates  is  lost. 

At  noon  Hockin  came  to  the  job  and  asked  me  when  I 
would  do  the  work.  He  took  it  for  granted  that  I  would 
do  it.  I  asked  him  what  I  had  to  expect  if  I  got  caught. 

"Stand  pat  and  keep  your  mouth  shut,"  he  said.  "I'll 
get  a  lawyer  and  the  money  for  your  defense  and  bail,  and 
we'll  get  you  out  of  it." 

"I'm  afraid  of  a  leak,"  I  objected,  seeking  desperately  to 
find  a  way  out.  But  there  was  no  way.  And  to  convince 
me  that  there  was  no  danger  of  a  leak,  Hockin  stooped  to 
dragging  in  the  mire  the  badge  of  brotherhood  which  we 
both  wore,  and  in  which  I  have  always  taken  too  much 
pride  to  ever  use  in  such  trouble  as  has  befallen  me. 

"We're  both  Knights  of  Pythias,"  Hockin  replied,  "and 
you  ought  to  be  willing  to  trust  a  brother.  Everything  will 
be  all  right.  You  will  be  well  paid.  There  will  be  no  risk. 
You  get  ready  and  I'll  get  the  dynamite  and  let  you  know 
when  I'm  ready." 

This  was  not  dark  alley  plotting  and  there  was  none 
of  the  dramatic  about  it.  That  was  to  enter  later,  with  the 
appearance  of  J.  J.  McNamara.  This  conversation  was  held 
on  a  Detroit  street  at  the  noon  hour,  and  I  flatly  told  Hockin 
that  I  would  not  do  the  work. 

"Then  I'll  take  away  your  card  and  have  you  blacklisted," 

19 


he  snarled.  "I'll  keep  you  off  of  every  union  job  in  the 
country,  and  I'll  spread  the  report  that  you  were  fired  from 
the  union  because  you  dynamited  those  other  jobs  and 
the  union  won't  stand  for  dynamiters.  Of  course,  they  can't 
prove  it  on  you,  but  you'll  be  arrested  and  put  to  all  sorts 
of  trouble  and  the  open  shop  people  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  you.  And  I'll  brand  you  so  no  decent  man  will 
work  beside  you  in  any  kind  of  work." 

Hindsight  is  a  splendid  quality,  but  how  fine  it  would  be 
if  we  could  reverse  its  action.  I  see  now  a  number  of 
things  which  I  might  have  done  then  and  escaped.  But  I 
could  not  see  them  then.  I  could  only  see  my  wife  and 
children  hungry  and  myself  tramping  about  the  country, 
vainly  hunting  work  or,  finding  it,  holding  it  only  for  a 
day  or  so,  to  be  kicked  out  as  a  degenerated  thug  with  the 
instincts  of  a  tiger.  Seeing  this  and  only  this,  I  yielded. 
But  I  promised  myself  that,  the  job  once  accomplished,  I 
would  leave  Detroit,  get  away  from  Hockin  and  thus  es- 
cape being  mired  with  him  in  the  pit  he  was  digging  for 
himself.  For  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  had  become  ob- 
sessed with  the  idea  of  explosion  and  that,  should  I  per- 
form the  work  in  a  manner  to  accomplish  real  damage,  and 
escape  without  suspicion,  he  would  carry  into  effect  a  pro- 
gram of  destruction  which  would  find  an  echo  in  every 
part  of  the  country.  I  foresaw  exactly  what  did  happen, 
and  I  tried  to  escape  a  part  in  it.  Why  I  could  not  will 
appear  shortly. 

A  few  days  later  Hockin  told  me  that  he  had  been  un- 
able to  get  the  dynamite  and  said  I  would  have  to  get  it. 
I  never  knew,  but  it  is  easy  to  guess,  that  Hockin  decided 
that  so  long  as  I  was  doing  the  work  I  might  as  well  do 
all  of  it,  and  thus  he  would  keep  his  hands  free  of  stain  in 
case  I  was  caught. 

20 


I  put  him  off  from  day  to  day,  asking  him  where  I  was 
to  get  the  dynamite.  This  puzzled  him  for  awhile,  but  on 
June  22,  1907,  he  told  me  to  go  to  the  quarry  in  Bloom- 
ville,  Ohio,  where  I  used  to  work,  and  buy  thirty-five 
pounds.  I  never  knew  what  trouble  Hockin  took  looking 
into  my  early  life,  but  he  knew  it  in  detail. 

I  asked  him  how  I  was  to  transport  the  dynamite. 

"Put  it  in  a  suit  case  and  take  it  with  you  on  a  passenger 
train,"  he  said. 

This  conversation  was  held  on  Saturday,  June  22,  1907, 
and  I  left  Detroit  that  evening,  Hockin  giving  me  $20  for 
expenses.  I  arrived  in  Bloomville  a  few  hours  later,  and 
from  my  cousin,  Philip  E.  Prouse,  who  conducted  a  hard- 
ware store,  bought  the  fuse  and  caps.  I  then  secured  an 
order  from  Nat  France,  owner  of  the  quarry  for  thirty-five 
pounds  of  dynamite.  My  uncle,  William  Behm,  drove  me  to 
the  quarry  and  William  Carey,  in  charge  of-  the  magazine, 
delivered  the  dynamite  to  me.  The  use  of  dynamite  is 
so  common  in  that  section  that  nothing  is  thought  of  its 
sale,  although  I  told  France  I  wanted  it  to  kill  fish  with. 
I  told  my  uncle  the  truth. 

With  the  dynamite  in  a  suit  case  I  left  Bloomville  that 
afternoon  and  arrived  in  Detroit  that  evening.  On  Mon- 
day, June  24,  1907,  I  went  to  the  job  as  usual,  leaving  the 
explosive  in  my  room,  which  I  shared  with  Fred  Zeiss, 
and  at  noon  Hockin  came  to  me.  I  reported  to  him  and 
tendered  the  balance  of  the  expense  money  he  had  given 
me.  He  told  me  to  keep  it.  In  the  light  of  later  experi- 
ence, this  generosity  on  his  part  is  inexplicable,  except 
upon  the  theory  that  he  was  excited.  He  got  it  back  from 
me  over  and  over  again. 

I  again  told  him  that  I  had  gone  as  far  as  I  intended 
to  in  the  matter  and  that  he  must  send  a  man  to  my  room 

21 


that  night  to  get  the  dynamite.  He  said  that  he  would  see 
me  again  as  I  came  off  the  job  in  the  afternoon. 

As  I  was  leaving  the  work  he  accosted  me  and  said : 

"I  want  that  job  pulled  off  tonight  and  you've  got  to  do 
it.  Set  some  in  the  boiler,  under  the  hoist  and  some  in  the 
air  compressor.  There  is  no  watchman  and  you'll  have 
no  trouble.  I'm  janitor  of  the  Elks'  Club  and  they  have 
a  banquet  tonight.  The  banquet  will  be  over  at  1  o'clock 
in  the  morning  and  I'll  be  busy  then.  Set  the  explosion 
between  1  and  2  o'clock.  That  will  give  me  a  good  alibi. 
Your  money  will  come  in  a  day  or  two.  If  you  are  caught, 
stand  pat." 

I  had  no  trouble  in  executing  his  orders,  but  as  I  set  the 
explosion  in  the  boiler  I  noticed  a  little  door  which  led 
from  the  kitchen  of  a  restaurant  into  the  alley,  just  oppo- 
site the  boiler.  I  was  afraid  that  some  person  would  come 
out  of  that  door  just  as  the  explosion  went  off,  so  I  rolled 
a  garbage  barrel  in  front  of  it,  arranging  the  barrel  so  that 
the  door  could  not  be  opened  from  the  inside.  Then  I  led 
the  fuses  to  one  point,  each  cut  for  thirty-five  minutes, 
and  lighted  them.  I  then  went  to  my  room,  four  blocks 
away  and  was  in  bed  when  the  explosion  occurred. 

This  dynamite  was  60  per  cent  nitro-glycerine  and  I  had 
set  four  sticks  in  each  charge,  leaving  the  remainder  in  my 
room.  The  explosion  did  a  great  deal  of  damage  and  was 
in  every  way  what  Hockin  termed  "a  good  job." 

I  heard  the  fire  department's  apparatus  answer  an  alarm 
that  was  turned  in  because  of  the  explosion  and  later  in 
the  morning  heard  the  newsboys  calling  their  papers  with 
the  story  of  the  explosion.  I  looked  out  at  the  window  and 
saw  a  policeman  at  each  corner  of  the  block.  I  was  cer- 
tain that  I  had  been  detected  and  that  the  house  was  sur- 
rounded. Because  of  this  I  cut  the  fuse  and  dynamite  into 

22 


small  bits  and  flushed  them  down  the  toilet.  The  caps  I 
took  with  me  and  hid  in  the  building  on  which  I  was  work- 
ing. 

On  our  way  to  work  Zeiss  and  I  heard  talk  of  the  ex- 
plosion on  all  sides  and  he  wanted  to  go  to  the  place  and 
see  the  wreck.  I  was  afraid  to  do  this.  I  had  told  him 
nothing  of  my  connection  with  it  but  now  said,  as  though 
joking: 

"I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  later."    He  merely  laughed. 

During  all  that  day  I  worked  with  a  vacant  mind.  I 
could  not  collect  my  ideas  and  thought  continually  of  the 
crime  I  had  committed.  A  number  of  strangers  were  pry- 
ing about  the  building  all  day  and  I  suspected  them  to  be 
detectives.  I  learned  later  that  they  were  such.  The  day 
seemed  a  hundred  hours  long,  but  it  ended  at  last,  and 
taking  the  caps  I  had  hid  I  threw  them,  one  at  a  time,  into 
the  Detroit  river.  Thus  all  of  the  evidence  save  what  they 
may  have  found  at  the  scene  of  the  explosion  was  de- 
stroyed. 

I  read  every  paper,  and  learned  that  Hockin  had  been 
arrested.  He  was  released  shortly  afterward,  his  alibi  be- 
ing too  strong  to  shake.  It  will  be  remembered  that  I 
had  told  my  uncle,  William  Behm,  the  truth  about  the  use 
to  which  the  dynamite  was  to  be  put.  I  sent  the  news- 
papers to  him  and  he  destroyed  them. 

I  now  sought  an  opportunity  to  leave  Detroit  and  thus 
get  away  from  Hockin,  whom  I  feared.  Therefore,  when 
word  came  that  men  were  wanted  on  a  rush  job  at  Indian- 
apolis, I  persuaded  Zeiss  to  accompany  me  there.  The 
general  contractor  was  the  Central  States  Bridge  Company 
and  a  sub-contractor  was  doing  the  iron  work. 

On  June  27  or  28,  after  lunch,  I  was  ascending  the  build- 
ing when  I  heard  a  man  on  the  ladder  behind  me  ask  why 

23 


I  hurried  so.  At  the  eighth  floor  he  said :  "Wait  a  minute," 
and  joined  me.  He  gave  me  a  sealed  envelope  and  said: 

"There's  some  money  in  it." 

It  contained  $75  in  bills  and  a  note  in  Hockin's  writing 
which  said:  "Compliments  of  the  executive  board.  More 
to  follow." 

On  Saturday,  June  29,  Hockin  visited  the  work  and 
asked  me  if  I  got  the  money.  I  then  asked  him  for  transfer 
cards  for  Zeiss  and  myself  and  told  him  we  were  going  to 
Indianapolis.  We  got  them  and  left  that  'evening  for 
Chicago.  On  July  1  we  arrived  in  Indianapolis,  only  to 
be  told  the  contractors  had  been  changed  and  the  job  was 
an  open  shop.  We  met  a  friend  of  Zeiss'  who  took  us  up 
to  the  international  headquarters  of  the  Iron  Workers' 
Union  and  there  I  again  saw  Ryan,  now  international  pres- 
ident, and  became  acquainted  with  J.  J.  McNamara,  then 
international  secretary  and  treasurer.  The  offices  were  in 
the  American  Central  Life  building,  rooms  Nos.  422-24. 
On  the  fifth  floor  of  the  building  there  is  a  big  vault  which 
also  belonged  to  the  headquarters. 

I  suggested  to  Ryan  that  in  as  much  as  we  had  come  in 
response  to  a  wire  from  him  for  men  it  was  only  fair  that 
headquarters  should  pay  our  fare  to  Indianapolis  and  back 
to  Chicago.  He  became  angry  in  an  instant  and  pointing 
to  a  big  safe  he  said: 

"We  ought  to  have  that  full  of  money  for  legitimate  work 
let  alone  paying  the  expenses  of  men  looking  for  jobs." 

Zeiss  and  I  returned  to  Chicago  and  on  July  5  went  to 
work  for  Charles  Volkmann  &  Co.,  and  during  the  next 
few  months  we  had  several  jobs  together.  Then,  in  Sep- 
tember, Zeiss  had  a  bad  fall,  sustaining  serious  injuries. 
He  went  to  a  hospital  and  I  have  not  seen  him  since. 

It  was  not  until  December  that  I  again  felt  the  iron  hand 

24 


of  the  union  and  the  fine  hand  of  Ryan  and  Hockin,  the 
latter  now  international  organizer.  During  that  month,  in 
the  absence  of  an  engineer,  I  ran  a  hoisting  engine  for  two 
hours  and  was  fined  $25.  I  was  foreman  for  Volkmann 
then  and  refused  to  pay  the  fine.  In  order  to  keep  me  on 
the  job  Volkmann  paid  it  for  me.  Again  appears  an  acci- 
dent of  fate.  Had  Volkmann  not  paid  that  fine  I  would 
have  been  expelled  from  the  union  and  escaped  the  meshes 
of  the  union  leaders  so  far  as  the  dynamite  plot  was  con- 
cerned. I  was  angry  about  the  fine  but  there  lurked  in 
my  mind  the  idea  that  if  I  was  expelled  I  would  certainly 
be  done  with  the  dynamite  game.  But  the  fine  was  paid 
and  I  worked  on.  And  early  in  February  I  heard  from 
Hockin.  Truly,  there  was  no  escape  for  me. 

It  was  at  that  time  that  Paddy  Mackin,  then  business 
agent  for  the  Chicago  local,  came  to  me  and  told  me  that 
Hockin  wanted  to  see  me  and  would  be  waiting  for  me 
that  evening  near  my  home.  He  and  Mackin  were  both 
there.  We  went  to  a  wine  room,  where  he  told  me  that 
he  wanted  me  to  dynamite  a  bridge  in  course  of  construc- 
tion by  the  Wisconsin  Bridge  Company  at  Clinton,  Iowa. 
He  said  that  the  watchman  was  "fixed"  and  that  I  was 
expected  by  the  international  executive  board  to  put  a 
charge  of  dynamite  under  the  derrick  car  used  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  bridge. 

I  told  him  that  I  was  done  with  that  sort  of  thing.  I 
said  that  I  was  sorry  for  the  Detroit  crime.  It  bothered 
me  and  I  feared  arrest. 

"We've  got  the  goods  on  you  now,"  he  replied.  "You've 
got  to  do  as  we  say  or  we'll  jail  you.  Then  where  will 
your  wife  and  children  be?  You  can't  lay  down  on  us 
now.  The  executive  board  has  set  aside  $125  and  expenses 
for  this  job  and  for  other  jobs  that  you're  going  to  do. 

25 


You're  going  to  do  just  exactly  as  we  say,  when  we  say 
it,  and  as  often  as  we  say  it,  or  you  are  going  to  jail." 

I  was  afraid  to  refuse  but  I  told  him  that  the  money 
he  offered  was  not  enough  and  he  told  me  that  it  was  all 
I  would  get. 

A  week  later  he  called  at  my  house  to  discuss  plans  and 
was  introduced  to  my  wife  as  Mr.  Ping.  When  I  objected 
that  I  had  no  dynamite  he  told  me  to  get  it  where  I  got 
tire  other. 

"Get  a  hundred  pounds,"  he  said,  "and  you  can  use  it 
in  the  other  jobs  you'll  get.  If  you  are  arrested,  stand  pat 
and  I'll  protect  you." 

He  gave  me  $50  for  expenses  and  I  left  for  Tiffin,  Ohio, 
on  February  13,  1908.  I  drove  from  there  to  Bloomville  in 
a  livery  rig,  putting  the  rig  in  the  stable  of  Frank  Rutz, 
and  spent  the  night  with  my  uncle,  William  Behm.  My 
cousin,  Philip  E.  Prouse,  had  sold  his  hardware  business 
but  I  bought  caps  and  fuse  from  his  successor  and  on  the 
afternoon  of  February  14  got  100  pounds  of  dynamite  from 
Nat  France's  magazine.  I  arrived  in  Chicago  on  the  morn- 
ing of  February  15.  I  left  there  at  noon  and  arrived  at 
Clinton  between  4  and  5  o'clock.  I  registered  at  a  hotel 
as  G.  Grovie,  according  to  Hockin's  instructions,  and  in 
the  evening  looked  over  the  work  I  had  to  do.  The  next 
day,  Sunday,  I  again  inspected  the  bridge  and  the  work, 
and  found  that  I  would  have  to  pay  toll  on  a  bridge  in 
order  to  get  across  the  river  to  the  derrick  car  I  was  ex- 
pected to  destroy. 

On  Sunday  night  it  was  biting  cold.  I  took  the  dyna- 
mite and  went  across  the  river.  Waiting  until  1  o'clock  I 
set  a  charge  of  fifteen  sticks  on  each  side  of  the  hoist  and 
twenty  sticks  under  the  car.  The  work  was  not  successful 
from  Hockin's  point  of  view.  Only  one  charge  on  the  hoist 

26 


exploded.  The  dynamite  was  frozen  and  I  had  no  way  to 
thaw  it  before  use. 

I  did  not  want  to  face  the  toll  man  on  the  bridge  so 
soon  after  having  crossed,  so  I  walked  four  miles  up  the 
river  to  another  bridge,  crossed  there,  returned  to  Clinton, 
got  a  train  at  4  o'clock  and  arrived  in  Chicago  at  9  a.  m., 
February  17.  In  the  afternoon  I  returned  to  my  job  as 
foreman. 

A  week  later  Hockin  came  to  my  house  and  learning 
that  my  expenses  had  been  $40  said  he  would  leave  that 
and  the  $125  pay  with  R.  H.  Houlihan,  recently  convicted 
for  complicity  in  the  dynamite  plot  at  the  Indianapolis 
trial,  and  at  that  time  secretary  of  the  bridgemen's  Chicago 
union.  On  the  following  Tuesday  I  went  to  the  union 
hall  because  it  was  meeting  night,  thus  giving  me  an  ex- 
cuse. 

"A  friend  of  yours  named  Ping  left  some  money  for  you," 
said  Houlihan,  inviting  me  into  his  private  office.  "Why 
does  he  owe  you  this?" 

"I  might  have  loaned  it  to  him,"  I  replied  and  Houlihan 
laughed. 

"That's  a  good  excuse,"  he  said.  There  was  an  order 
prohibiting  any  member  of  the  union  from  entering  the 
private  office,  but  from  that  day  forward  I  was  always  wel- 
come in  the  place.  Houlihan  knew  then  what  I  was  doing. 

Having  no  interest  in  the  meeting  I  did  not  remain,  but 
went  home  and  gave  the  money  to  my  wife. 

I  again  began  to  think  how  I  could  evade  Hockin  and 
still  work  at  my  trade.  Before  I  had  reached  a  conclusion 
Volkmann  got  a  contract  at  Howell,  Indiana,  to  tear  down 
a  steel  building  and  re-erect  it  at  Evansville,  near  by.  I 
thought  then  that  my  problem  was  solved.  I  did  not  be- 
lieve that  Hockin  would  locate  me  there.  I  had  not  yet 

27 


realized  the  extent  of  the  determination  of  the  interna- 
tional executive  board  and  Ryan  and  McNamara  to  have 
the  dynamiting  done.  If  I  had  I  would  never  have  de- 
ceived myself  into  thinking  I  could  work  as  a  union  man 
and  hide  anywhere  in  the  world.  I  had  been  in  Evansville 
only  two  days  when  Hockin  hailed  me  from  across  the 
street. 

"I  never  was  so  glad  to  see  a  man  in  my  life  as  I  am 
you,"  he  said.  He  was  excited  and  showed  it.  I  ques- 
tioned him  as  to  the  cause  and  he  said: 

"A  man  carrying  a  suit  case  filled  with  dynamite  was 
arrested  in  Clinton,  Iowa,  the  other  day  and  we  thought 
it  was  you.  I  must  telegraph  international  headquarters 
that  you  are  safe." 

Less  than  a  week  later  Hockin  came  there  again  and 
wanted  me  to  leave  the  job  and  go  to  St.  Louis  to  dyna- 
mite a  viaduct.  I  told  him  that  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  get  away  from  the  job  as  it  was  a  rush  order  and  I  was 
in  charge,  with  Volkmann  depending  upon  me.  He  said 
that  he  would  arrange  to  have  me  receive  a  telegram  from 
Chicago  saying  that  my  aunt  was  sick  and  to  have  me 
met  by  a  man  at  Union  station,  St.  Louis,  who  would 
give  me  a  note  telling  location  of  the  work  to  be  destroyed, 
and  of  the  dynamite. 

Before  I  got  the  wire  I  got  hurt  and  could  not  walk  for 
a  day  or  two.  The  day  I  got  the  wire  he  telephoned  to  me 
and  I  told  him  of  my  accident.  This  time  the  accident 
worked  in  my  favor  but  it  was  the  only  time.  A  week 
later  he  came  to  Evansville  and  told  me  they  had  got  an- 
other man  to  blow  the  St.  Louis  work  but  that  it  had  been 
a  failure. 

The  end  of  the  Evansville  work  was  the  end  of  my  peace 
of  mind.  From  that  day  to  this  the  union  has  kept  me  in 

28 


mental  torment.  I  cannot  here  make  this  part  of  my  nar- 
rative too  strong.  I  hope  by  this  little  book  to  be  the 
means  of  saving  others  similarly  placed.  Hockin  and  the 
international  executive  board  now  had  me  bound  hand 
and  foot.  I  had  become  their  slave.  I  gave  a  lot  of  thought 
to  the  subject.  I  pondered  ways  of  escaping  them.  I  dis- 
cussed the  matter  with  my  wife.  I  could  see  no  end  save 
jail  or  perhaps,  should  I  even  unintentionally  kill  some 
one,  a  worse  fate.  But  men  with  strong  wills  dominated 
me  and  events  proved  that  there  was  to  be  no  escape.  I 
had  to  go  on  and  on  to  the  end,  and  all  because  I  had  first 
let  Hockin  threaten  me  into  doing  the  Detroit  work  by 
painting  a  picture  of  want  for  my  family,  and  later  black- 
mail me  into  doing  his  bidding  by  threatening  me  with 
exposure  and  punishment  for  the  same  crime.  Now  it  was 
too  late  to  turn  back,  unless  I  could  go  to  some  one  in 
whom  I  could  place  confidence  and  tell  him  everything. 
And  I  knew  no  such  person.  There  was  to  be  no  looking 
back  now,  if  Hockin  insisted. 

When  the  work  at  Evansville  was  finished  I  returned 
to  Chicago  and  had  been  there  but  a  few  days  when  Hockin 
demanded  that  I  go  to  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  and  destroy  some 
girder  spans  in  a  bridge  which  the  McClintock  &  Marshall 
Company  was  constructing  for  the  Lehigh  railroad. 

On  June  28,  1908,  I  left  Chicago  for  Buffalo,  taking  with 
me  what  dynamite  I  had  left.  This  I  had  buried  in  a  vacant 
lot  near  my  house.  I  arrived  in  Buffalo  the  following  day 
and  registered  at  the  Arlington  hotel  as  Charles  Clark. 
In  the  evening  while  walking  near  Lafayette  Park  I  spied 
Hockin  talking  with  a  policeman.  A  drizzle  was  falling 
but  we  went  out  to  the  bridge  and  looked  it  over.  We 
did  not  see  enough  to  satisfy  us,  though,  so  returned  the 
next  day.  Hockin  then  said  he  wanted  the  bridge  dyna- 

29 


mited  on  the  following  night  and  that  he  would  go  to  To- 
ronto and  wait.  We  stood  on  a  foot  bridge  near  the  rail- 
road bridge  and  he  pointed  out  just  where  he  wanted  the 
charge  set.  It  was  on  top  of  a  concrete  pier,  in  the  shoe 
at  the  end  of  two  girders. 

In  the  evening  of  July  1,  I  took  the  dynamite  from  the 
check  room  of  the  Union  station,  where  I  had  placed  it  on 
my  arrival,  and  hid  it  and  my  automatic  pistol  near  a  board 
fence  some  distance  from  the  bridge.  I  climbed  upon  a 
box  car  to  see  if  I  could  get  onto  the  pier  that  way.  The 
structure  was  for  carrying  trains  over  other  tracks,  of 
which  there  were  many  under  the  bridge.  As  I  stood  on 
the  box  car  two  men  in  the  yards  called  to  me.  I  went 
down  and  they  questioned  me.  I  was  practically  under 
arrest.  I  told  them  I  was  the  watchman  on  the  bridge. 

"You'd  better  get  back  on  the  bridge,  then,"  they  said. 
"You're  in  a  bad  place  here.  A  watchman  was  killed 
among  these  cars  a  day  or  so  ago." 

They  went  away  and  I  got  my  gun  and  the  dynamite. 
A  switch  engine  left  a  car  directly  under  the  bridge  and 
by  this  means  I  reached  the  top  of  the  pier.  I  set  the 
charge  and  cut  the  fuse  to  reach  the  ground. 

In  all  of  my  crimes  of  this  character  I  never  failed  to 
consider  the  getaway.  This  time  I  was  a  bit  confused  by 
the  difference  in  time  between  Buffalo  and  Chicago.  For- 
tunately, however,  the  mistake  was  in  my  favor  and  I  only 
had  to  wait  a  little  longer  than  I  had  reckoned  on.  I  fired 
the  fuse  and  was  at  the  Union  station  when  I  heard  the 
explosion.  I  got  the  train  and  arrived  in  Chicago  on  the 
evening  of  July  2.  A  few  days  later  Hockin  came  to  Chi- 
cago and  paid  me  $125  and  my  expenses  for  the  work. 

A  day  or  so  later  I  went  to  work  on  the  construction  of 
the  La  Salle  hotel,  George  A.  Fuller  Company,  contractors. 

30 


Johnny  Hunter  was  superintendent  and  George  "Nigger" 
Brown  foreman  of  the  derrick  gang  in  which  I  worked. 
I  remained  at  peace  there  until  October,  when  Hockin 
came  and  told  me  I  must  go  to  Holyoke,  Mass.,  where  the 
Shoemaker  Company  was  erecting  an  over-street  bridge 
for  the  New  York,  New  Haven  &  Hartford  railroad. 

"I  want  you  to  get  the  big  guy  derrick  they're  using,  and 
the  material,"  said  Hockin. 

By  this  time  I  had  run  out  of  excuses  and  had  also  lost 
hope  that  any  excuse  I  could  give  would  have  effect.  But 
as  a  forlorn  hope  I  told  him  I  had  that  job  for  all  winter 
and  did  not  want  to  quit.  His  answer  was  ready. 

"I'll  fix  it  with  Hunter  so  you  can  get  away  for  the 
trip  and  go  back  to  work  when  you  come  home."  He  did 
this.  Not  a  word  was  said  when  I  returned  to  work, 
though  if  I  had  disappeared  from  the  job  because  of  ill- 
ness or  for  some  other  serious  and  honest  reason  I  should 
probably  have  had  no  job  when  I  returned.  But  the  job 
was  a  union  one  and  Hockin  was  international  organizer. 
That  was  reason  enough.  I  don't  know  what  Hockin  told 
Hunter.  Nothing  was  ever  said  to  me  about  it. 

I  don't  remember  where  I  got  the  dynamite  for  that 
job.  I  have  spent  two  years  trying  to  recall  its  source, 
but  to  no  purpose.  I  had  it  buried  in  the  vacant  lot  at 
Van  Buren  and  Sangamon  streets,  near  my  home,  and 
when  I  dug  it  up  and  got  ready  for  the  trip  I  saw  that  it 
was  weather-beaten  and  I  believe  now  it  was  so  old  that 
it  would  not  have  exploded  had  the  cap  been  fired.  I  ar- 
rived in  Springfield,  Mass.,  on  October  14  and  located  the 
bridge  in  Holyoke  that  day.  On  the  next  day  I  took  the 
dynamite  to  Holyoke  and  placed  it,  in  the  suit  case,  in  the 
base  of  a  column.  Then  I  returned  to  Springfield  after 
lighting  the  fuse.  The  next  day  I  saw  in  a  newspaper  an 

31 


account  of  an  attempt  to  dynamite  the  bridge.  Watchmen 
whom  I  had  seen  at  a  fire  near  the  derrick  in  which  I  was 
to  have  set  the  charge  had  seen  the  smoke  from  the  fuse, 
investigated  and  prevented  the  explosion.  I  don't  believe, 
though,  that  that  dynamite  would  have  gone  off  if  it  had 
been  let  alone  for  it  was  in  bad  condition. 

This  is  not  to  be  considered  a  reflection  on  the  bravery 
of  those  watchmen  who  prevented  the  explosion  of  the 
cap.  They  did  not  know  the  condition  and  they  risked 
their  lives  to  undo  the  crime  I  had  committed,  and  the 
dynamite  might  have  exploded.  But  however  it  is  looked 
at,  the  lives  of  three  men  were  thus  put  in  jeopardy  be- 
cause Hockin  and  the  international  executive  board  of  the 
Bridge  and  Structural  Iron  Workers  sought  to  punish  a 
company  which  preferred  to  deal  with  men  direct  instead 
of  through  organizations.  These  lives  were  jeopardized, 
too,  through  no  fault  of  mine,  save  in  the  degree  in  which 
I  was  responsible  for  my  own  act  in  placing  the  charge. 
This  incident  taught  me  that  however  careful  I  might  be, 
I  could  not  tell  when  an  act  of  mine  was  going  to  lead  to 
murder,  and  this  added  to  the  burden  of  worry  the  increas- 
ing number  of  crimes  was  placing  on  me. 

I  returned  to  my  job  on  the  La  Salle  hotel  and  later 
Hockin  asked  me  why  there  had  been  no  explosion.  I 
showed  him  the  clipping  and  he  said  the  executive  board 
would  not  pay  for  the  job,  but  would  pay  my  expenses. 

Shortly  after  this  I  left  the  La  Salle  job  to  go  with 
Volkmann  as  foreman  on  several  small  jobs  and  in  March, 
1909,  was  at  Lockport,  111.,  when  Hockin  hunted  me  up. 

No  town  was  too  small  for  him  to  find  if  I  were  in  it.  If 
ever  a  man  had  an  evil  genius,  I  had  one  in  Hockin. 

Before  Hockin  arrived,  however,  I  had  another  caller 
on  a  similar  errand.  Jim  Cooney,  then  business  agent  at 

32 


Chicago,  wanted  me  to  do  some  dynamiting  for  him.  The 
leak  of  which  I  had  spoken  to  Hockin  in  Detroit  had  been 
developed.  Hockin  must  have  talked,  lodge  brother  though 
he  was.  I  bluffed  Cooney  off  by  telling  him  that  I  could 
do  work  only  for  the  international  executive  board.  There 
was  no  use  in  denying  to  him  that  I  did  dynamiting  for 
he  convinced  me  in  three  words  that  he  knew.  It  fright- 
ened me,  but  my  refusal  did  not  even  annoy  Cooney.  He 
said  that  he  would  have  to  re-employ  some  safe  blowers 
he  had  used  before.  These  men,  I  learned,  were  engaged 
in  some  dynamiting  in  the  name  of  unionism  around  Chi- 
cago, but  I  know  nothing  of  them  or  their  work. 

Late  in  March  Hockin  returned  to  Chicago  and  told  me 
to  go  to  Boston  and  find  Mike  J.  Young,  business  agent 
of  the  Boston  local,  at  the  Labor  Temple,  386  Harrison 
avenue.  I  was  to  tell  Young  that  my  name  was  Clark  and 
that  I  had  been  sent  by  Ping.  He  would  then  give  me 
instructions. 

After  I  had  finished  the  work  in  Boston,  Hockin  said 
I  was  to  go  to  New  York  and  visit  Frank  C.  Webb,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  international  executive  board,  at  his  home  on 
One  Hundred  and  Twenty-third  street  near  Third  avenue. 
I  was  to  use  the  same  names  and  give  the  same  account 
of  myself  and  Webb  would  give  me  instructions  concern- 
ing the  dynamiting  he  wanted  done.  This  was  aimed  at 
a  structure  in  Hoboken,  N.  J.  I  told  Hockin  I  had  no  dyna- 
mite and  he  said : 

"Go  to  Joliet  and  buy  it."  He  advanced  me  $50  and  I 
bought  two  cases  of  40  per  cent  dynamite  of  twenty-five 
pounds  each.  With  this  in  two  suit  cases  I  left  Chicago 
on  March  26  and  arrived  in  Boston  the  following  day. 
Leaving  the  suit  cases  at  the  depot  parcel  room  I  hunted 
up  Young  and  we  rode  on  a  street  car  to  the  Boston  opera 

33 


house,  then  in  course  of  construction.  He  told  me  that 
that  was  the  job  he  wanted  dynamited.  Four  derricks  were 
employed  on  the  work  and  after  looking  it  over  I  told 
Young  I  did  not  believe  I  could  do  much  damage.  He 
was  determined  to  have  the  explosion  and  told  me  to  set 
the  charge  under  a  big  girder  over  the  stage.  At  3  o'clock 
in  the  morning  we  turned  in.  I  told  Young  on  leaving 
him  that  I  thought  I  could  set  the  shot  that  night.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  sent  $50  to  Webb  in  New  York,  think- 
ing that  I  would  stop  there  first.  He  said  that  this  had 
been  done  because  he  wanted  me  to  be  sure  to  visit  Boston. 

In  view  of  the  overwhelming  evidence  brought  against 
Young  and  Webb,  as  well  as  the  others,  at  the  trial  of  the 
dynamite  plot  cases  in  Indianapolis  recently,  this  fact  of 
the  money  is  not  especially  important.  I  insert  it  here, 
however,  to  show  the  determination  of  these  men  to  de- 
stroy property  and  the  eagerness  with  which  they  awaited 
my  coming  to  do  their  work.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that 
the  work  of  dynamiting  surpassed  in  importance,  as  the 
labor  leaders  saw  it,  any  other  work  they  could  do.  From 
this  time  forward,  as  will  be  shown,  it  was  the  sole  idea 
of  the  international  executive  board  to 'destroy.  Destruc- 
tion was,  of  course,  limited  to  non-union  work,  but  the  de- 
sire to  unionize  work  was  secondary  to  the  desire  to  de- 
stroy property,  and  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  judge,  none  of 
the  leaders  cared  whether  the  destruction  of  property  en- 
tailed with  it  the  destruction  of  life. 

McNamara  and  the  others  claimed  that  they  were  wag- 
ing a  war.  In  a  sense  they  were.  I  mean  that  they  really 
thought  they  were  making  real  war.  But  it  was  a  diseased 
thought  in  diseased  brains,  lacking  justification  and  with- 
out benefit  to  any  person  in  the  world. 

On  the  night  of  March  27  I  set  a  suit  case  containing 

34 


twenty-five  pounds  of  dynamite  in  a  stair  wall  on  the  sec- 
ond floor  of  the  opera  house  and  cut  a  fuse  to  burn  thirty- 
five  minutes.  Then  I  went  to  the  depot  intending  to  catch 
a  train,  but  was  delayed  and  missed  it.  I  was  at  the  depot 
when  the  explosion  went  off.  I  registered  as  Charles  Clark 
at  the  United  States  hotel  and  the  next  morning  went  to 
New  York  and  found  Webb  at  his  home.  I  checked  the 
suit  case  with  the  dynamite  at  a  railroad  station  at  Forty- 
third  street  and  Lexington  avenue  and  Webb  and  I  went 
by  the  Twenty-third  street  ferry  to  Jersey  City.  There  he 
showed  me  a  big  bridge  which  the  Penn  Steel  Company 
was  erecting  and  said  he  wanted  it  destroyed.  I  refused 
to  do  this,  for  Hockin  had  told  me  the  job  I  was  after  was 
in  Hoboken.  The  next  morning  we  went  to  Hoboken  and 
en  route  there  he  gave  me  the  money  Young  had  sent. 

At  Hoboken  I  found  that  the  work  to  be  destroyed  was 
an  inclined  viaduct  for  a  street  car  company.  It  was  be- 
ing erected  by  McClintock  &  Marshall.  About  the  work 
were  a  dozen  or  more  of  watchmen's  shanties  and  I  saw 
that  it  would  be  difficult  to  do  my  work  undetected.  Webb 
went  so  far  as  to  point  out  a  spot  between  the  air  com- 
pressor and  boiler,  saying  that  was  where  he  wanted  the 
blast  placed.  I  told  him  I  would  have  to  set  it  where  I 
could. 

We  returned  to  New  York  and  after  getting  my  suit  case 
I  bade  Webb  good-bye.  As  we  were  about  to  separate 
Webb  urged  me  to  remain  in  New  York  and  work  for  the 
local,  but  Hockin's  orders  to  me  had  included  a  declaration 
that  I  was  to  take  work  of  this  kind  only  through  the  in- 
ternational executive  board.  I  found  out  later  why  that 
was. 

I  arrived  in  Hoboken  at  dusk  and  after  some  skirmishing 
got  onto  the  bridge  and  determined  to  set  the  charge  on  a 

35 


pierhead  about  midway  of  the  bridge.  A  column  set  on 
this  pier  and  the  steel  lacings  were  so  close  together  that 
I  had  to  push  the  dynamite  through  one  stick  at  a  time. 
This  required  some  time,  during  which  half  a  dozen  watch- 
men passed  within  a  few  feet  of  me.  I  cut  fifty  feet  of 
fuse,  lighted  it  and  was  at  the  ferry  depot  when  the  ex- 
plosion took  place.  A  policeman  in  the  ferry  house  ran 
out  when  the  shot  came.  There  was  considerable  excite- 
ment and  a  report  was  circulated  that  the  gas  plant,  which 
was  near  the  viaduct,  had  blown  up. 

As  yet  I  knew  nothing  of  the  damage  I  had  done,  but  I 
was  too  nervous  to  stay  near  that  ferry.  A  car  was  leaving 
and  I  got  on  it  without  knowing  its  destination.  It  landed 
me  at  Jersey  City  at  4  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  March  31. 

Herein  appears  a  peculiar  coincidence  which  in  a  meas- 
ure enabled  me  to  escape.  While  in  New  York  with  Webb 
I  had  bought  a  ticket  to  Chicago  by  the  Pennsylvania  road 
and  had  asked  about  trains  which  would  take  me  by  the 
famous  Horseshoe  curve  in  daylight.  They  told  me  that 
that  train  left  Jersey  City  at  5  a.  m.  The  street  car  I  had 
taken  blindly  had  enabled  me  to  connect  with  the  train  I 
wanted. 

Hockin  was  so  anxiuus  to  know  the  result  of  my  work 
that  he  found  it  impossible  to  wait  for  my  arrival  to  get  the 
news.  Accordingly  he  frequently  gave  me  orders  to  tele- 
graph him  results.  On  this  occasion  I  was  to  use  the  name 
'Ting"  and  wire  "Sold  Stock  Boston  (with  date),  Hoboken, 
(with  date)."  This  wire  I  sent  from  Pittsburg  on  the  night 
of  March  31  and  the  original  telegram  in  my  handwriting, 
was  put  in  evidence  at  the  Indianapolis  trial,  together  with 
the  testimony  of  the  girl  who  took  it  from  me. 

At  Mansfield,  O.,  I  left  the  train  and  went  to  Bloomville 
for  a  short  stay,  then  going  to  Chicago,  arriving  there  Sat- 

36 


urday,  April  3,  1909.  A  few  days  later  I  got  a  telegram 
from  Hockin  at  Detroit,  asking  me  to  meet  him  at  the  Mich- 
igan Central  depot  at  Chicago  the  next  day.  He  arrived 
with  a  woman  whom  he  said  was  his  sister.  She  was  en 
route  to  Pasadena,  Cal.  He  paid  me  for  the  two  crimes, 
but  deducted  the  $50  which  Young  had  sent  to  Webb  for 
me.  I  protested  at  this,  saying  that  I  was  under  the  impres- 
sion the  money  had  been  a  present  from  Young.  Hockin 
became  angry  and  said  I  had  no  right  to  take  money  from 
anyone  save  the  international,  through  him.  Again  he 
threatened  me  with  exposure  or  blacklisting  and  again  I 
knuckled  to  him.  I  feared  that  he  had  me  hopelessly  in  his 
power  and  decided  to  let  the  money  go. 

During  the  next  ten  days  I  was  idle.  This  gave  me  much 
time  to  think  over  what  I  had  done,  and  the  more  I  thought 
the  more  despondent  I  became.  I  talked  it  over  with  my 
wife  and  told  her  I  would  give  anything  for  a  friend  in 
whom  I  could  confide.  I  said  that  the  strain  was  killing 
me  and  that  sooner  or  later  I  would  get  caught  or  killed. 
She  asked  me  if  it  was  that  serious  and  I  explained  the 
details  of  one  or  two  of  my  crimes  to  her.  She  then  told 
me  to  quit,  but  she  could  not  tell  me  how  I  was  to  quit.  If 
I  had  known  anyone  who  would  have  given  me  protection 
I  would  have  hunted  him  up  and  confessed  then  and  there 
and  thus  stopped  the  whole  thing  and  prevented  the  murder 
of  those  twenty  men  in  the  Los  Angeles  Times  building. 
But  I  could  do  nothing,  or,  at  any  rate,  I  did  not  see  then 
that  I  could  do  anything. 

No  man  who  ever  lived  wanted  to  reform  as  I  wanted  to. 
But  everywhere  I  turned  I  found  a  union  boss  leering  at 
me.  By  this  time  business  agents  and  other  labor  leaders 
throughout  the  country  were  familiar  with  what  was  going 
on.  I  had  seen  proof  of  this  in  Young  and  Webb.  I  knew, 

37 


therefore,  that  should  I  refuse  to  do  their  work  and  try  to 
hide  I  would  be  instantly  turned  over  to  the  police.  By 
doing  this  the  labor  leaders  could  have  made  great  capital, 
as  they  would  have  thus  been  able  to  show  their  sincerity 
in  denouncing  violence.  They  could  have  convicted  me  as 
the  dynamiter  and  the  public  would  have  praised  them 
for  succeeding  where  the  great  private  detectives  and  the 
police  had  failed. 

On  April  15  I  went  to  Evanston,  111.,  to  work  for  Volk- 
mann,  who  was  constructing  a  bridge  over  the  sanitary 
drainage  canal  for  the  C.  M.  &  St.  P.  railroad.  In  June 
Hockin  came  for  me. 

Had  a  beam  fallen  on  him  by  accident  I  suppose  I  should 
have  been  morally  responsible,  for  that  was  just  what  I 
was  wishing  would  happen  when  I  saw  him.  But  no  acci- 
dent took  place,  and  he  told  me  he  had  several  pieces  of 
dynamite  work  for  me. 

I  threatened  and  pleaded  with  him  to  let  me  alone.  I  told 
him  I  wanted  no  more  of  his  work  and  that  I  would  not 
break  my  contract  with  Volkmann.  He  merely  laughed 
at  me  and  that  added  to  my  fury. 

He  told  me  at  that  time  of  the  invention  by  one  of  the 
union  men  of  a  clockwork  device  by  which  an  explosion 
could  be  set  at  any  hour  to  take  place  at  any  time  within 
twelve  hours.  This,  he  said,  gave  the  man  ample  time  to 
get  hundreds  of  miles  away  from  the  scene  before  the  ex- 
plosion occurred.  This  was  the  celebrated  clock  machine 
which  J.  B.  McNamara  used  in  destroying  the  Los  Angeles 
Times  building  and  killing  twenty  men  working  there.  Both 
J.  B.  and  I  used  these  machines  exclusively  after  their 
invention. 

The  clock  used  was  a  small  Tattoo  alarm,  from  which 
the  alarm  clapper  and  the  silencer  was  removed.  To  the 

38 


winding  key  of  the  alarm  was  soldered  a  small  L-shaped 
piece  of  brass.  The  clock  was  attached  to  a  light  board 
or  cardboard.  To  this  board  was  also  affixed  a  dry  bat- 
tery. To  one  battery  post  was  connected  a  wire  to  the 
other  end  of  which  was  soldered  a  small  piece  of  brass  and 
this  was  also  attached  to  the  board  in  such  a  manner  that 
when  the  alarm  key  unwound  as  the  alarm  went  off,  the 
brass  soldered  to  the  key  came  in  contact  with  the  brass 
fixed  to  the  wire,  thus  making  a  circuit.  The  other  post 
of  the  battery  was  occupied  by  a  wire  from  the  fulminat- 
ing cap.  The  other  cap  wire  was  wound  around  the  ring 
of  the  clock. 

"We've  also  got  the  pure  quill  now,"  continued  Hockin, 
"nitro-glycerine.  We  bought  some  from  a  well-shooter  in 
Indianapolis  and  tried  it  and  the  clock  out  on  some  material 
stored  on  a  siding  at  Steubenville,  O.  It  worked  fine.  We 
set  six  explosions  and  five  of  them  went  off.  We'll  have 
no  more  smoke  from  fuses  to  attract  attention  now." 

The  hellishness  of  Hockin's  schemes  are  perhaps  made 
more  apparent  by  a  proposal  he  made  to  me  with  regard 
to  the  work  we  were  on,  which  was  unionized.  We  were 
setting  the  concrete  piers,  and  Volkmann,  while  bidding  on 
the  steel  work,  had  lost  the  job  to  the  Wisconsin  Bridge 
Company,  a  non-union  outfit,  whose  bridge  at  Clinton,  la., 
I  had  damaged  in  my  second  explosion.  Hockin  wanted 
to  send  out  some  of  the  "soup,"  as  he,  like  a  yeggman, 
referred  to  nitroglycerine,  and  I  was  to  set  it  within  the 
pier  so  that  we  would  have  a  charge  all  ready  when  the  steel 
work  got  far  enough  advanced  to  make  it  worth  our  while 
to  destroy. 

I  promptly  told  him  that  I  would  go  to  jail  right  then 
rather  than  be  a  party  to  such  a  scheme;  that  the  nitro 
was  almost  certain  to  explode  as  the  workmen  set  the  steel 

39 


and  that  thus  any  number  of  men  might  be  killed  or  injured. 
This  time  I  convinced  him  I  meant  business,  and  he  dropped 
the  subject. 

We  finished  the  job  on  July  15,  1909,  and  before  we  got 
through  the  Wisconsin  Bridge  Company  moved  in  its  tools. 
Among  these  was  the  derrick  car  which  I  had  damaged  in 
the  Clinton,  la.,  explosion.  I  was  shown  where  the  unex- 
ploded  (frozen)  dynamite  was  found,  and  told  that  the 
explosion  blew  the  engine  to  pieces. 

Much  has  been  and  is  still  being  said  about  the  efforts 
made  by  the  International  executive  board  of  the  bridge- 
men's  union  to  stop  the  explosions  and  arrest  the  dynamiters 
of  that  period.  It  is  doubtless  a  fact,  despite  all  the  evidence 
that  has  been  brought  forward,  that  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  labor  union  men  throughout  the  country  still  be- 
lieve that  the  story  of  the  dynamite  plot  is  a  fabrication  from 
end  to  end.  This  regardless  of  the  fact  that  over  40,000 
letters  and  telegrams  touching  upon  the  plot  were  found 
in  the  offices  of  J.  J.  McNamara  at  Indianapolis.  Some  of 
these  could  have  been  "framed,"  it  is  true,  but  how  other 
letters  and  telegrams  could  have  been  created  in  this  man- 
ner no  one  has  tried  to  explain.  These  have  been  evaded, 
instead  by  bombast,  and  promises  of  a  "show-up"  of  the 
prosecutors  and  detectives  connected  with  the  case.  The 
"show-up"  is  yet  to  come. 

I  mention  these  things  here  because  at  the  time  I  was 
solemnly  inspecting  the  derrick  car  I  had  damaged  months 
before,  at  the  command  of  Hockin,  international  organizer 
and  member  of  the  international  executive  board,  I  was 
also  shown  a  copy  of  the  Bridgemens'  Magazine,  of  which 
J.  J.  McNamara  was  editor,  offering  a  reward  of  $500  for 
the  capture  of  the  Clinton,  Iowa,  dynamiter.  By  such 
simple  methods  did  the  leaders  of  labor  delude  their  fol- 

40 


lowers  at  that  time  and  later.  And  similar  methods  are 
in  use  today. 

If  any  lesson  is  to  be  learned  by  the  Amercian  people 
from  the  dynamite  plot,  it  is  that  violence  in  labor  unions 
must  cease  if  the  nation  is  to  stand.  Violence  in  such  places 
is  unAmerican ;  it  is  destructive  of  government  and  liberty 
and  none  realizes  better  than  I  to  what  success  in  our  under- 
taking would  have  led.  McNamara  and  Ryan,  had  they 
been  supreme  after  the  dynamiting  would  have  by  their 
violence  and  their  greed  for  gold  and  power,  dissipated  the 
future  of  this  country  and  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of 
its  people  as  a  hot  sun  dissipates  a  fog. 

The  bridge  was  set  without  difficulty.  The  international 
executive  board,  I  learned  later,  wanted  to  destroy  it,  but 
did  not  dare,  and  it  was  because  of  this  fear  that  Hockin 
wanted  to  get  the  glycerine  in  the  piers  so  that  we  could 
have  blown  the  bridge  without  danger  of  detection.  J.  J. 
McNamara  and  Hockin,  I  learned,  believed  that  Eddie 
Francis,  business  agent  of  the  Chicago  local,  was  in  the 
pay  of  the  open  shop  people,  and  because  of  this  were 
afraid  to  try  to  dynamite  any  job  in  his  district. 

Late  in  November  of  1909  I  was  in  Chicago  with  but 
little  work,  when  Hockin  paid  me  a  visit.  Nothing  came 
of  that,  but  on  December  5  I  received  a  telegram  from  him 
directing  me  to  go  to  Indianapolis.  I  was  now  on  the  verge 
of  what  for  the  next  two  years  was  to  be  my  sole  occupa- 
tion, dynamiting.  I  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  the  morning 
of  December  9th  and  met  Hockin  at  the  Lorraine  hotel. 

"We're  going  to  Muncie,  Ind.,"  he  said,  "to  buy  120 
quarts  of  nitroglycerine,  and  we  must  find  a  place  to  store 
it.  We're  going  to  open  a  big  campaign,  and  we'll  blow 
'em  all  sky  high." 

We    arrived    at    Muncie    at   noon    of   December   9,    and 

41 


shortly  afterward  made  arrangements  to  rent  for  $5 
per  month  the  house  at  227  Ebright  street,  owned  by  a  man 
named  Franklin.  We  paid  the  rent  for  three  months,  giv- 
ing as  our  principals  the  firm  of  Watson  &  Sons,  of  Cleve- 
land, and  said  that  we  wanted  it  for  storing  ornamental 
tile.  We  got  half  a  dozen  barrels,  some  sawdust  and  a 
piano  box  into  the  house  and  Hockin  had  a  carpenter  make 
a  number  of  boxes  to  exactly  fit  a  ten-quart  nitro-glycerine 
can. 

We  put  up  at  the  Braun  hotel,  Hockin  as  Charles  Miller 
and  I  as  Charles  Clark.  When  we  returned  to  the  hotel 
Hockin  greeted  a  stranger  and  a  moment  later  introduced 
me  to  J.  B.  McNamara,  the  man  destined  to  become  infam- 
ous as  the  destroyer  of  the  building  of  the  Los  Angeles 
Times.  He  was  the  inventor  of  the  infernal  machines  we 
used  from  that  time  forward. 

"Do  you  know  this  man?"  Hockin  asked  me. 

"No,"  I  said,  "but  I  know  a  man  in  Indianapolis  who 
looks  a  whole  lot  like  him." 

"Who  is  that?"  the  stranger  asked. 

"J.  J.  McNamara,"  I  said. 

"He's  my  brother,"  replied  J.  B. 

That  night  J.  B.  told  me  of  causing  four  explosions,  miles 
apart,  at  practically  the  same  minute.  Naturally  I  was  im- 
pressed with  the  effectiveness  of  the  device  and  carefully 
studied  the  operation.  That  it  is  the  most  effective  infernal 
machine  ever  devised,  I  have  been  told  by  a  number  of  de- 
tectives and  powder  experts.  Its  greatest  value  to  us,  how- 
ever, lay  in  the  fact  that  it  gave  us  ample  time  for  getting 
away  after  the  shot  had  been  set,  thus  reducing  our  chances 
of  capture  and  almost  totally  removing  suspicion. 

J.  B.  told  me  of  using  the  machine  to  damage  the  Wis- 
consin Bridge  Company's  bridge  at  Green  Bay,  Wis.;  a 

42 


Von  Spreckelson  job  at  Indianapolis,  and  a  number  of  other 
crimes.  He  was  proud  of  his  work  as  an  inventor  and  also 
as  a  dynamiter,  and  laughed  at  the  narrow  escapes  he  had 
had.  He  told  me  that  while  looking  over  a  big  bridge  built 
by  McClintock  &  Marshall  at  Beaver,  Pa.,  he  and  Hockin 
had  been  arrested  as  vagrants.  They  had  twelve  quarts 
of  nitro-glycerine  hidden  on  the  river,  but  nothing  suspic- 
ious on  their  persons  and  they  were  released.  Of  course, 
it  would  not  have  done  for  them  to  set  the  explosion,  so  the 
project  was  abandoned  for  the  time.  Later  Hockin  used 
a  story  about  this  bridge,  an  idea  of  his  own,  as  a  reason 
for  turning  traitor  and  keeping  the  Erectors'  Association 
informed  of  what  we  were  doing,  while  continuing  to  act 
as  international  organizer.  J.  B.  McNamara  was  registered 
at  the  hotel  under  the  now  familiar  name  of  J.  B.  Brice. 

The  next  morning  we  prepared  the  packages  and  the 
house  for  the  reception  of  the  nitro-glycerine  and  then  drove 
six  miles  into  the  country  to  meet  the  well  shooter,  who 
was  to  have  the  nitro-glycerine  on  his  wagon  for  us.  We 
drove  through  De  Soto,  three  miles  from  Muncie,  where 
J.  B.  told  me  he  had  had  at  one  time  forty  quarts  of  glycer- 
ine buried.  I  was  much  interested  when  we  passed  a  deep 
hole  in  the  ground  to  learn  that  it  was  all  that  remained 
of  what  had  once  been  a  nitro-glycerine  factory.  It  had 
blown  up  and  was  then  just  as  it  had  been  after  the  explo- 
sion. I  was  to  more  fully  realize  the  power  of  this  stuff 
later  when  I  learned  that  not  a  vestige  of  the  infernal  ma- 
chine remained  after  our  explosions.  Not  so  much  as  a 
clock  wheel  or  a  piece  of  wire  was  ever  found  when  the 
explosion  had  been  successful. 

A  short  distance  beyond  the  site  of  the  factory  we  met 
Charles  Keizer,  the  well  shooter,  from  whom  Hockin  had 
bought  the  glycerine.  He  was  a  sales  agent  for  the  Inde- 

43 


pendent  Torpedo  Company,  of  Findlay,  Ohio.  He  had  a 
wagon  with  the  "soup".  Hockin,  after  paying  him,  went 
back  in  his  rig  to  Muncie,  with  orders  to  us  to  hurry. 

I  asked  the  well  shooter  a  good  many  questions  about 
handling  the  stuff.  He  told  me  that  one  could  never  tell 
when  it  was  going  off.  He  said  that  sometimes  it  would 
stand  considerable  jar,  while  at  other  times  the  slightest 
shock  would  set  it  off.  He  showed  me  that  the  cans  have 
two  corks  each  and  explained  that  it  was  always  safer  to 
pull  both  corks  at  once,  as  the  inrush  of  air  when  one  cork 
was  pulled  caused  a  friction  that  had  sometimes  been  fol- 
lowed by  explosions.  We  covered  the  boxes  with  horse 
blankets  and  thus  moved  the  stuff  to  the  house  where  we 
locked  it  in  the  piano  box  and  then  we  all  returned  to 
Indianapolis.  I  arrived  in  Chicago  on  December  11. 

In  the  fall  of  1909  an  ironworker  named  Jim  Hull  planned 
with  me  to  go  into  the  contracting  business  and  as  a  pre- 
liminary we  began  buying  tools.  Some  of  the  tools  we 
thus  secured  had  been  stolen  and  I  was  arrested.  Hull 
was  not  suspected  and  I  never  mentioned  his  name,  so  that 
he  escaped  arrest  and  drifted  out  of  my  life.  I  was  released 
on  bond,  retained  Attorney  Charles  Erpstein,  paid  him 
$100,  had  my  wife  get  $200  from  Hockin  and  returned  to 
work  in  Chicago.  Later  I  pleaded  guilty  on  my  attor- 
ney's advice,  although  I  was  not  guilty,  and  was  given  a 
sentence  of  thirty  days  in  the  Cook  county  jail.  I  served 
ten  days  and  was  released.  I  don't  know  now  why  the 
release  was  given  me. 

In  the  meantime,  before  the  case  came  to  trial,  Hockin 
came  to  Chicago  and  asked  me  about  the  case.  This  was 
early  in  April  of  1910.  He  said  he  wanted  me  to  dynamite 
the  Mount  Vernon  car  shops  at  Mount  Vernon,  111.,  in 
course  of  construction  by  McClintock  &  Marshall.  He  said 

44 


he  had  explored  the  premises,  located  the  watchmen  and 
that  the  job  would  be  easy.  On  a  telegram  from  Hockin 
from  Indianapolis,  received  at  Chicago  on  Friday  night, 
April  15,  1910,  I  went  to  Indianapolis,  arriving  there  at 
4  a.  m.  Sunday.  I  registered  at  the  Lorraine  hotel  where 
Hockin  had  a  room  for  me,  under  my  true  name.  I  met 
Hockin  in  the  lobby  of  the  hotel  at  6  a.  m.  and  we  went  to 
international  headquarters  and  discussed  the  work  with  J. 
J.  McNamara,  and  Hockin  gave  me  $25  expense  money  in 
the  presence  of  J.  J.  McNamara.  We  learned  the  routes 
and  train  connections  and  then  I  was  instructed  to  return 
to  Chicago  and  wait  orders,  after  I  had  set  the  explosions. 

J.  J.  had  a  suit  case  which  he  took  from  a  wardrobe  in 
his  office,  and  this  he  gave  to  me.  It  contained  two  four- 
quart  varnish  cans  filled  with  nitro-glycerine,  two  electric 
fulminating  caps  and  two  infernal  machines.  I  was  in- 
structed to  place  one  charge  under  a  locomotive  crane  and 
another  under  a  hoisting  engine  in  the  Mount  Vernon  yards. 

I  arrived  in  Mount  Vernon,  111.,  at  6:20  p.  m.,  April  17, 
1910.  I  talked  with  the  watchman  that  night  and  gave 
him  two  cigars.  The  following  day  I  watched  the  men 
at  work  and  spent  half  of  the  night  at  the  yards  waiting 
for  the  watchman  to  leave  the  crane  so  that  I  could  set 
the  explosion.  He  did  not  leave  it  and  I  returned  to  my 
hotel.  I  had  registered  as  William  Clark.  An  opera  com- 
pany arrived  the  next  day  and  I  tried  to  coax  the  watchman 
to  go  to  the  show.  He  would  not  do  it,  but  stuck  right 
with  his  crane.  In  desperation  lest  I  should  kill  him  when 
the  machine  blew  up  and  in  fear  of  vengeance  from  Hockin 
and  McNamara  if  I  did  not  set  the  explosion,  I  was  for 
some  hours  at  a  loss.  Then,  although  I  did  not  have  actual 
experience  with  the  infernal  machines,  I  saw  a  possible 
way  of  doing  my  work  and  protecting  the  watchman  too. 

45 


I  set  a  machine  in  the  hoist,  some  distance  from  the  crane, 
to  go  off  two  minutes  before  the  charge  I  set  in  the  crane, 
which  I  reached  while  the  watchman  was  sitting  on  one 
end  of  it,  by  boldly  walking  to  the  other  end.  The  ruse 
worked  perfectly.  The  roar  of  the  explosion  at  the  hoist 
drew  the  watchman  in  that  direction  at  a  run  and  before 
he  reached  the  dismantled  hoist  the  explosion  in  the  crane 
let  go,  completely  wrecking  it,  and  turning  it  over  onto  its 
side. 

I  was  at  the  depot  when  the  explosions  occurred  and 
saw  the  brilliant  flash  which  lit  up  the  skies  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  train  was  a  little  late,  and  I  had  to  put  up  at 
the  Richmond  hotel,  Evanston,  Ind.,  at  midnight.  The 
next  day  I  went  to  Chicago. 

On  the  night  of  the  explosion  at  Mt.  Vernon,  111.,  a 
bridge  at  Mount  Vernon,  Ind.,  was  destroyed  by  an  explo- 
sion. I  don't  know  anything  about  that  explosion  yet, 
though  Hockin,  after  investigating,  said  he  thought  some 
striking  coal  miners  had  caused  it,  as  the  railroad  which 
owned  it  had  been  hauling  non-union  and  boycotted  coal. 

If  Hockin  was  right  in  his  opinion  of  this,  he  cast  an 
interesting  light  on  labor  in  general.  Apparently  all  of  the 
explosions  of  the  period  of  which  I  write  were  not  due  to 
the  international  executive  board  of  the  Bridge  &  Structural 
Iron  Workers.  In  other  words,  labor  leaders  of  various 
crafts  and  trades  were  engaged  in  dynamiting  wherever 
opportunity  for  destruction  presented  itself.  This  indi- 
cates that  union  labor  as  conducted  at  that  time,  (and  cer- 
tainly not  greatly  improved  since)  has  violence  for  its  cor- 
nerstone and  its  keystone,  its  foundation  and  its  roof.  This 
phase  of  union  labor  is  the  phase  which  is  making  it  harder 
and  harder  for  working  men  to  survive  the  struggle  for  a 
livelihood  and  it  will  continue  to  be  so  until  the  individual 

46 


members  themselves  awake  to  the  necessity  of  direct 
control  of  their  jobs  instead  of  leaving  this  work  to  hired 
men  who  labor  only  for  their  personal  gain  in  wealth  and 
power. 

A  few  days  after  I  had  returned  to  Chicago  Hockin  came 
and  refused  to  pay  me,  saying  I  had  caused  an  explosion 
at  Mount  Vernon,  Ind.,  instead  of  at  the  right  place.  I 
showed  him  a  newspaper  clipping  of  what  I  had  done  in 
Illinois  and  he  returned  to  investigate.  Later  he  paid  me 
and  gave  me  the  information  above. 

When  he  paid  me  he  and  J.  B.  came  to  my  house  together. 
J.  B.  then  showed  Hockin  and  me  clippings  from  news- 
papers giving  accounts  of  explosions  he  had  caused  in  Salt 
Lake.  At  Salt  Lake  he  met  Jack  Bright,  alias  J.  E.  Munsey> 
since  convicted  at  Indianapolis  of  complicity  in  the  dyna- 
mite plot.  Bright  was  business  agent  of  the  Salt  Lake  local 
and  when  J.  B.  McNamara  blew  up  the  Utah  hotel,  Bright 
was  at  the  Blue  Ribbon  cigar  store,  two  blocks  away,  and 
was  thus  provided  with  an  unshakable  alibi.  That  e'xplosion 
took  place  in  April  of  1910. 

Shortly  after  this  conversation  I  pleaded  guilty  to  a 
charge  of  petty  larceny  in  connection  with  the  theft  of 
the  tools,  although,  I  say  again,  I  was  an  innocent  purchaser 
of  stolen  property,  and  was  given  thirty  days  in  jail.  I  was 
released  on  June  11,  1910.  My  partner  in  the  proposed 
contracting  business,  Jim  Hull,  was  wanted  for  horse 
stealing  in  Pueblo,  Colo.,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  that  I 
shielded  him. 

After  serving  ten  days  in  jail  I  returned  to  work  at 
Twelfth  street  and  Blue  Island  avenue,  Chicago,  and  two 
days  later  Hockin  came  to.  me  and  told  me  he  had  two 
dynamiting  jobs. 

I  had  a  short  bar  of  iron  in  my  hand  when  he  approached 

47 


me  and  now  I  gripped  it  hard.  I  was  desperate  and  I  decided 
that  I  would  make  one  dash  for  liberty;  one  play  that  he 
might  either  take  or  leave. 

"Hockin,"  I  said,  "I  want  to  tell  you  something.  You 
have  got  to  leave  me  alone  and  let  me  work  at  my  trade 
or  give  me  a  steady  job  at  dynamiting  and  I'll  do  nothing 
else." 

Had  I  known  what  the  outcome  of  that  declaration  of 
independence  would  have  been  I  would  never  have  made  it. 
But  I  did  not  know  that  the  international  executive  board 
of  my  union  had  set  its  hand  to  the  plow  with  no  idea  of 
turning  back.  I  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  the  time  and 
attention  of  J.  J.  McNamara,  international  secretary  and 
treasurer,  was  now  so  taken  up  with  schemes  of  destruc- 
tion that  his  other  and  necessary  and  useful  work  was 
practically  totally  neglected.  So  as  I  saw  the  matter  then, 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  surrender  when  Hockin  said: 

"All  right.    I've  got  work  enough  to  keep  you  busy." 

"It's  up  to  you,"  I  replied.  "But  I  want  to  tell  you  this : 
Any  time  I'm  caught,  you're  all  caught.  I  will  spill  the 
story  as  fast  as  I  can  once  I  feel  the  irons  on  my  wrists. 
I  am  not  going  to  stand  pat." 

He  only  smiled  as  he  walked  away. 

I  think  it  was  on  June  17  that  I  got  a  telegram  from 
Hockin  at  Cincinnati,  calling  me  there.  I  arrived  in  the 
morning  of  June  18  and  called  for  a  letter  at  the  genera] 
delivery  window,  which  Hockin  had  said  would  be  awaiting 
me.  There  was  no  letter.  I  sat  in  a  park  near  the  post- 
office  until  10  a.  m.  when  I  saw  J.  B.  and  Hockin  at  a  corner, 
and  joined  them. 

We  rode  on  a  street  car  some  distance  to  a  park  where, 
in  the  isolation  this  provided,  Hockin  outlined  his  plans.. 
We  were  to  go  to  Indianapolis  and  get  twelve  quarts  of 

48 


explosive  and  some  infernal  machines,  after  which  we  were 
to  go  to  Cleveland  and  locate  the  Harvard  street  viaduct 
which  McClintock  &  Marshall  were  erecting.  From  Cleve- 
land we  were  to  go  to  Detroit  where  the  local  had  made  up 
a  pot  of  $500  which  they  were  willing  to  pay  for  five  explo- 
sions, to  occur  on  July  4  as  a  celebration.  Hockin  gave 
me  $25  for  expenses. 

En  route  to  Indianapolis  J.  B.  and  I  discussed  the  divi- 
sion of  the  money  for  the  Cleveland  job,  and  it  was  then 
that  I  discovered  that  Hockin  had  been  stealing  from  me 
ever  since  I  had  been  doing  the  dynamiting  at  his  bidding. 
According  to  the  figures  then  he  owed  me  $525. 

It  appears  that  the  international  executive  board  had 
set  aside  $200  and  expenses  for  each  job.  J.  B.  was  getting 
that  amount.  Hockin  had  been  drawing  that  amount  for 
the  crimes  I  had  committed,  but  he  had  given  me  only  $125 
and  expenses.  He  had  also  padded  my  expense  accounts, 
thus  increasing  his  stealings  to  a  slight  extent.  This  J.  B. 
surmised  on  the  train  as  we  talked  and  when  we  reached 
J.  J.  McNamara's  office  we  verified  it  by  the  check  book 
stubs.  J.  J.  McNamara  said  he  would  lay  a  trap  to  catch 
Hockin. 

We  left  Indianapolis  that  night  with  the  glycerine  and 
machines  and  got  to  Cleveland  about  midnight.  I  reg- 
istered as  Miller,  my  companion  as  J.  B.  Brice.  On  Monday 
Hockin  joined  us  and  gave  instructions  for  me  to  join  him 
in  Pittsburg  after  the  Detroit  explosion,  using  the  name 
of  J.  W.  McGraw.  He  was  to  use  the  name  of  Charles 
Laughlin.  He  instructed  us  to  telephone  to  Pete  Smith, 
business  agent  at  Cleveland,  when  we  set  the  Cleveland 
explosion,  so  that  he  could  provide  himself  with  an  alibi. 

We  set  the  explosion  between  9  and  10  o'clock  Tuesday 
evening  in  some  light  material  and  blew  it  all  to  pieces. 

49 


As  soon  as  the  charge  was  set  we  made  for  the  depot  and 
when  I  asked  J.  B.  about  calling.  Smith,  he  refused  to  do  so, 
declaring  that  Smith  would  have  to  look  out  for  himself. 
The  explosion  was  set  for  2  a.  m.,  and  it  was  just  that  time 
when  we  entered  a  room  in  the  Park  hotel  near  the  union 
station  at  Toledo. 

"There's  some  noise  in  Cleveland  about  now/'  said  J.  B. 

The  next  day  at  noon  we  arrived  in  Detroit  and  paid  a 
week's  rent  for  a  room  at  45  Abbot  street.  J.  B.  got  a  letter 
from  J.  J.  McNamara  which  contained  an  express  receipt. 
From  the  express  office  we  got  a  package  containing  four 
infernal  machines.  On  the  wrapper  was  the  return  address, 
"Room  422,  No.  8  East  Market  St.,  Indianapolis,  Ind." 
That  was  the  address  of  the  office  of  J.  J.  McNamara. 

Later  in  the  day  I  saw  J.  B.  talking  with  a  man  who  had 
a  blackened  eye.  He  soon  joined  me  and  said: 

"There's  been  too  much  talk  here.  We  will  do  nothing, 
for  if  we  do  we'll  get  caught."  That  afternoon  I  returned 
to  Indianapolis  and  told  J.  J.  what  J.  B.  had  said.  J.  B. 
went  home  to  Cincinnati. 

I  returned  to  Chicago,  but  before  going  J.  J.  told  me  in 
the  future  he  would  give  me  orders  and  pay  me,  but  that 
Hockin  would  pay  me  for  the  Cleveland  job.  This  was 
on  June  25,  1910,  and  it  was  less  than  a  month  after  that 
Hockin  opened  communication  with  the  Erectors'  Associa- 
tion and  delivered  our  secrets  as  rapidly  as  he  could  learn 
them. 

On  June  26  at  Chicago  I  got  orders  to  meet  Hockin  at 
the  St.  Clair  hotel,  Toledo,  where  he  paid  me  for  the  Cleve- 
land explosion,  and  instructed  me  to  go  to  the  St.  Charles 
hotel  at  Pittsburg,  register  as  J.  W.  McGraw  and  make 
soundings  about  the  piers  of  the  Beaver  bridge  to  determine 
whether  we  could  put  glycerine  under  them.  There  were  a 

50 


number  of  other  commissions  regarding  investigation  to 
be  made  on  structural  work  in  progress  at  McKee's  Rocks, 
Shoup's  Ferry  and  other  points  near  Pittsburg.  Before  we 
had  concluded  our  investigations,  J.  J.  called  us  home. 
Hockin  had  68  quarts  of  nitroglycerine  cached  under  a 
cooper  shop  at  Rochester,  Pa.,  and  I  took  twelve  quarts  of 
this  to  Pete  Smith  at  Cleveland  on  my  way  home. 

The  bridge  at  Beaver,  over  the  Ohio  river,  is  the  longest 
cantilever  span  in  the  United  States  and  one  of  the  cost- 
liest of  bridges.  It  was  erected  by  McClintock  &  Marshall, 
and  it  plays  a  most  important  part  in  the  dynamite  plot, 
although  no  attempt  was  ever  made  by  us  to  destroy  it. 
But  it  was  this  bridge  which  figured  in  the  story  told  by 
Hockin  when  he  first  gave  the  Erectors'  Association  inform- 
ation of  our  plans. 

I  do  not  know,  but  I  have  always  believed  that  the  tele- 
gram Hockin  got  at  Pittsburg  from  J.  J.  McNamara,  order- 
ing us  home  grew  out  of  the  discovery  that  Hockin  was 
stealing  my  money,  and  that  what  took  place  between 
Hockin  and  J.  J.  when  the  former  arrived  in  Indianapolis 
lead  to  Hockin's  treason. 

At  any  rate,  as  was  developed  for  the  first  time  at  the 
trial  in  Indianapolis  of  the  conspirators  in  the  plot,  Hockin 
in  July,  or  shortly  after  we  returned  home  in  response  to 
J.  J.  McNamara's  telegram,  went  to  L.  L.  Jewell,  a  con- 
structing engineer  for  McClintock  &  Marshall,  and,  under 
an  assumed  name,  told  him  that  the  executive  board  was 
planning  to  wreck  the  bridge  under  a  passenger  train.  He 
declared  he  could  not  stand  for  murder  and  subsequently 
kept  the  Erectors'  Association  informed  of  what  we  planned 
to  do. 

Jewell  was  a  reluctant  witness  for  the  government.  He 
was  in  Panama  when  he  was  wanted  for  the  trial  and  the 

51 


aid  of  the  war  department  was  invoked  to  get  him  into  the 
United  States  where  a  federal  subpoena  would  be  effective. 
He  pointed  out  Hockin  in  the  court  room  as  the  man  who 
had  told  him  of  the  bridge  and  other  plots  and  said  that 
up  to  that  moment  he  had  never  known  his  true  name. 

My  reason  for  believing  that  it  was  the  discovery  of  the 
double  cross  Hockin  played  upon  me  that  drove  him  to  the 
other  side  is  the  fact  that  it  was  Hockin's  idea  and  no  one 
else's  to  blow  that  bridge  while  a  train  was  on  it.  He  even 
urged  that  I  do  it,  although  he  knew  that  it  would  kill  the 
man  who  fired  the  shot  as  certainly  as  it  would  kill  all  on 
the  train. 

The  question  came  up  when  we  discovered  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  a  man  to  get  onto  the  bridge  with  the 
explosive.  There  were  guards  all  over  it.  Hockin  then 
suggested  that  a  man  could  ride  onto  the  bridge  on  a  freight 
train  and  leap  off  at  the  pier  where  we  wanted  to  set  the 
charge.  He  could  then  flash  an  electric  light  which  would 
be  seen  by  a  man  in  a  boat  up  the  river.  This  man  could 
drift  down  under  the  pier  and  catch  a  handline  that  would 
be  lowered  from  the  bridge.  The  explosive  could  thus  be 
lifted  to  the  bridge  and  the  charge  set,  after  which  the  man 
on  the  bridge  could  slide  down  the  line  and  so  get  away. 

I  told  him  that  no  man  could  jump  from  a  moving  train 
onto  the  bridge  and  fail  to  go  through  to  the  water  below. 
It  was  then  that  Hockin  suggested  the  blowing  up  of  the 
bridge  and  the  train.  He  said,  however,  to  me  that  the 
train  would  not  be  hurt. 

His  idea  was  to  have  a  man  on  the  back  platform  of  the 
train  throw  a  can  of  glycerine  onto  the  pier  as  the  train 
rolled  by.  There  were  several  obstacles  which  would  pre- 
vent the  can  from  going  straight  to  the  pier,  thus  giving 
the  train  time  to  move  some  distance  before  the  can  hit  the 

52 


pier.  He  said  the  explosion  would  not  occur  until  then 
and  that  the  train  would  be  well  out  of  the  way.  I  told 
him  the  can  would  explode  the  moment  it  hit  the  bridge 
and  we  said  no  more  about  it.  That  was  all  the  conversa- 
tion ever  held  about  this  method  of  destroying  the  bridge, 
and  I  doubt  if  Hockin  ever  mentioned  it  to  J.  J.  McNamara. 
Yet  he  told  Jewell  that  we  were  planning  the  destruction 
of  the  train  and  used  that  as  an  excuse  for  turning  us  up. 

Pete  Smith  and  a  man  whom  he  called  "Nipper"  Ander- 
son were  at  the  depot  in  Cleveland  to  take  the  glycerine 
as  Hockin  and  I  came  through.  Smith  said  he  would  let 
me  cause  the  explosions  he  wanted,  but  for  the  fact  that  he 
had  promised  the  job  to  some  friends  of  his.  They  were 
to  be  at  Akron,  O.,  on  July  4  as  a  celebration,  and  they  took 
place  with  a  great  deal  of  damage. 

On  July  5,  J.  J.  wired  me  to  come  to  Indianapolis.  There 
he  told  me  to  go  to  Greenville,  N.  J.,  where  the  Phoenix 
Bridge  Company  was  just  completing  a  bridge  which  he 
wanted  to  destroy.  He  wired  Webb  at  New  York  to  meet 
me  and  instructed  me  to  go  to  Scranton  and  find  M.  J. 
Hannon  and  look  over  a  gas  holder,  which  was  being  con- 
structed, with  a  view  to  exploding  it  later.  I  was  also  to 
stop  at  Pittsburg  and  buy  a  dozen  clocks  for  new  infernal 
machines. 

I  arrived  in  Jersey  City  on  July  7,  and  met  F.  C.  Webb, 
at  that  time  an  ex-member  of  the  executive  board.  I  had 
eight  quarts  of  nitro-glycerine  and  two  infernal  machines  in 
my  suitcase.  While  we  were  standing  on  the  street,  a  man 
spoke  to  Webb  and  they  talked  for  a  moment. 

"I  think  that  man  is  watching  me,"  said  Webb.  "They 
have  got  me  down  as  a  bad  man  here,  and  I'm  going  to 
make  'em  think  I'm  worse." 

Webb  returned  to  New  York  and  the  next  day  I  set  two 

53 


charges  of  four  quarts  each  in  the  legs  of  columns  on  the 
storage  yard  side  of  an  inclined  bridge.  The  clocks  were 
set  to  go  off  at  4  a.  m.,  July  9,  but  one  did  not  go  until 
4:35  o'clock.  Several  times  subsequently  this  happened, 
and  we  never  understood  it.  It  was  probably  due  to  the 
clock  losing  time,  but  there  was  no  way  to  prevent  it.  The 
explosion  knocked  down  the  lower  two  bents,  totally 
wrecked  things  on  that  side  of  the  bridge,  and  blew  a  piece 
of  steel  through  a  steel  gondola  car  standing  a  hundred  feet 
away. 

Later  that  morning  I  met  Webb  in  New  York  and  he 
showed  me  the  papers  containing  the  story  of  the  explo- 
sion. Then  I  left  for  Scranton,  arriving  there  that  after- 
noon. Without  finding  Hannon  I  located  the  gas  holder  and 
decided  that  it  was  too  well  guarded  to  be  blown.  I  then 
went  to  Pittsburg,  made  the  investigations  wanted,  and 
found  the  only  chance  for  an  explosion  was  in  an  over- 
street  incline  being  erected  at  McKee's  Rocks  by  McClin- 
tock  &  Marshall.  I  got  four  quarts  of  glycerine  from  the 
Rochester  cache  and  set  it  on  a  concrete  pier  between  two 
girders,  to  go  off  at  2  a.  m.  July  15,  left  for  Pittsburg  at 
lip.  m.,  July  14,  and  arrived  at  Indianapolis  on  the  morn- 
ing of  July  15. 

J.  B.  was  in  his  brother's  office  and  as  I  entered  he  said : 

"I  see  you  are  wanted  in  Pittsburg."  At  the  same  time 
J.  J.  showed  me  a  paper  with  the  story  of  the  Pittsburg 
explosion. 

At  this  point  the  connection  of  the  union  locals  on  the 
Pacific  Coast  with  the  dynamiting  plot  begins.  J.  J.  showed 
me  a  telegram  from  E.  A.  Clancy  at  San  Francisco,  which 
was,  in  effect,  as  follows : 

"Has  Jim  left  for  the  coast?  If  not,  when  will  he  leave? 

(Signed)  "EUGENE." 

54 


J.  B.  was  going  to  the  coast  that  day. 

A  water  press  copy  of  this  telegram  was  introduced  in 
evidence  at  the  Indianapolis  trial,  where  Clancy  was  con- 
victed of  complicity  in  the  plot. 

J.  J.  McNamara  then  showed  me  that  he  had  nitro- 
glycerine stored  in  the  vault  on  the  fifth  floor  of  the  build- 
ing, and  took  from  the  supply  four  quarts,  which  he  gave 
me  with  instructions  to  go  to  Omaha  and  blow  up  an  addi- 
tion which  the  Wisconsin  Bridge  Company  was  building 
to  the  powerhouse  of  the  Omaha-Council  Bluffs  Street  Rail- 
way Company.  He  urged  me  to  hurry  back  to  Indianapolis 
when  the  work  was  done,  saying  that  he  had  several  other 
jobs  which  needed  immediate  attention. 

J.  B.  and  I  traveled  to  Chicago  together,  arriving  there 
that  evening.  I  took  a  suitcase  containing  the  machines 
and  eight  quarts  of  glycerine  for  the  Omaha  work.  J.  B. 
had  two  suitcases  in  one  of  which  he  had  a  dozen  infernal 
machines.  I  don't  know  what  he  had  in  the  other,  but  i 
think  it  was  glycerine.  J.  B.  told  me  that  he  had  orders 
to  report  to  Clancy  and  did  not  know  what  work  he  would 
be  given.  He  left  me  at  Chicago  to  get  a  westbound  train, 
and  I  did  not  see  him  again  until  after  the  Times  explosion 
in  Los  Angeles  on  October  1. 

I  arrived  in  Omaha  after  a  brief  stay  in  Chicago,  on 
July  19,  putting  up  at  the  Union  hotel  as  J.  W.  McGraw, 
and  in  the  evening  of  July  21  placed  eight  quarts  of  glycer- 
ine in  the  basement  of  the  power  house  at  the  foot  of  a 
column.  I  was  at  the  depot  waiting  for  a  delayed  train 
when  the  explosion  took  place.  It  broke  glass  near  there 
and  shook  the  buildings,  although  they  were  a  mile  from 
the  power  house.  I  arrived  in  Chicago  on  July  22  and 
in  Indianapolis  on  July  24. 

By  this  time  J.  J.  McNamara  had  his  hands  full  in  meet- 

55 


ing  the  demand  for  dynamiting.  From  locals  all  over  the 
country,  the  calls  were  coming,  for  the  open  shop  principal 
was  gaining  right  and  left  despite  all  our  destruction.  Some 
of  the  smaller  shops  became  frightened  and  organzied  their 
work,  but  it  was  with  the  big  shops  that  we  were  chiefly 
concerned  and  these,  fighting  for  the  right  to  do  business 
as  seemed  best  to  them,  stood  steady  as  a  rock  against 
all  our  assaults.  It  was  one  -thing  to  get  the  little  shops 
closed  to  all  labor  save  that  of  our  union,  and  quite  another 
thing  to  coerce  men  who  had  the  capital  to  build  their  busi- 
nesses to  large  proportions. 

It  seems  to  me,  looking  backward  with  what  I  may  be 
pardoned  for  saying  is  an  experienced  eye,  that  it  is  at  this 
point  that  organized  labor  makes  its  tremendous  mistake. 
Heretofore  all  unions  have  gone  upon  the  principle  that 
they  constitute  the  only  factor  in  our  economic  life  that  is 
to  be  considered,  or  is  worthy  of  consideration.  Labor 
unions  may  be  a  great  power  for  the  good  of  the  individual 
workman  if  they  are  properly  conducted  by  men  who  have 
the  interest  of  the  masses  at  heart  and  who  will  study  to 
advance  those  interests.  But  in  advancing  the  interests 
of  the  masses  the  fact  that  the  employers  of  America  con- 
stitute a  large  part  of  the  so-called  masses  should  not  be  for- 
gotten. It  is  forgotten,  and  the  result  is,  wrecked  unions, 
or  unions  that  are  worse  than  useless  and  unions  that  are 
criminal  in  their  conduct.  None  of  us  is  fitted  to  speak 
save  by  experience  and  observation.  My  experience  has 
taught  me  to  believe  that  the  old  style  union,  the  union 
with  a  chip  on  its  shoulder,  the  union  of  Ryan  and  Gompers, 
has  served  its  time  and  failed  to  serve  its  purpose.  Such 
unions  have  been  proven  of  no  value  to  the  members,  of  no 
value  to  the  employers,  of  no  value  to  the  community.  And 

56 


after  all  it  is  the  community  and  not  the  laborer  or  the 
capitalist  who  pays  the  freight. 

Successful  governments  have  been  founded  only  upon 
the  principle  of  compromise.  No  man  ever  got  all  that  he 
demanded,  unless  he  demanded  it  while  looking  through 
the  sights  of  a  gun  at  an  unarmed  man.  Then  he  was  not 
allowed  to  keep  it  long. 

The  labor  union,  I  believe,  is  properly  a  little  govern- 
men  within  the  larger  government  of  the  state.  Its  func- 
tions, while  less  expansive  than  those  of  the  state,  are  never- 
theless, similar.  The  welfare  of  the  union  is,  properly,  the 
welfare  of  the  state,  and  when  there  arises  within  the  state 
a  union  which  has  aims  and  hopes  in  opposition  to  those 
of  the  state,  that  union  is  dangerous  to  the  state,  and  the 
state  in  course  of  time  must  crush  it  in  self-defense. 

The  union,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  should  be  a  strong 
body  of  workers  with  definite  aims,  but  their  aims  should 
be  reasonable  and,  fairly  considered,  realizable.  In  addi- 
tion to  this  it  should  be  recognized  that  perfection  is  not 
to  be  obtained  on  earth  and  that  therefore  perhaps  some  of 
their  pet  theories  will  not  work  in  practice.  Ideas  such  as 
these  will  give  such  unions  the  same  power  of  expansion  as 
is  provided  by  the  engineer  for  a  steel  bridge.  It  is  well 
known  that  one  end  of  a  steel  bridge  is  always  loosely  laid 
upon  the  abutment  pier.  This  is  to  allow  for  expansion 
and  contraction  of  the  metal.  In  other  words,  when  the 
creator  of  that  bridge  has  finished  his  creation  he  has  pro- 
vided his  creature  with  the  power  to  adapt  itself  to  such 
circumstances  as  may  affect  it.  Had  he  made  his  bridge 
hard  and  fast  at  both  ends  the  first  change  in  weather 
would  have  wrecked  it  more  completely  «than  any  charge 
of  dynamite  could  have  done. 

So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  gather  from  extensive  read- 

57 


ing  during  almost  two  years  of  confinement  in  the  Los  An- 
geles county  jail,  no  man  in  America  has  recognized  the 
truth  of  what  I  say  so  thoroughly,  nor  labored  to  overcome 
existing  conditions  within  the  unions  by  remedying  their 
defects  and  creating  virtues  for  them,  more  effectively  than 
C.  W.  Post,  regarded  by  union  labor  leaders  throughout 
America  as  labor's  worst  enemy. 

In  the  skeleton  on  which  is  hung  the  union  which  he 
supports  are  the  bones  of  living  ideas,  and  it  is  my  belief 
that  as  the  individual  laborer,  be  he  skilled  or  unskilled, 
continues  to  think  over  the  results  to  labor  of  the  dynamite 
plot  of  which  I  was  a  part,  he  will  realize  that  violence 
not  only  is  unpatriotic,  but  that  it  is  a  serious  obstacle  to 
his  enjoyment  of  his  rights  under  the  constitution  of  which 
he  is  so  proud. 

Had  J.  J.  McNamara,  Ryan,  the  San  Francisco  crowd, 
Young,  Webb  and  the  others  used  real  foresight  coupled 
with  real  devotion  to  the  cause  of  labor,  I  would  never  have 
been  plunged  into  the  whirlpool  of  violence  which  I  wras 
at  this  time  entering.  But  they  had  not  foresight  and  real 
devotion  and  therefore,  immediately  after  the  Omaha  ex- 
plosion I  began  a  dynamiting  campaign  which  gave  me  not 
a  moment's  rest  until  my  arrest  nearly  a  year  later,  save 
when  I  was  sent  to  the  woods  as  a  sort  of  guardian  for  J. 
B.  McNamara,  whose  nerves  had  been  shaken  by  the  hide- 
ous results  of  the  Times  explosion  and  who  needed  rest 
and  an  opportunity  to  hide.  Thanks  to  Hockin  he  failed 
to  lie  hidden,  however  much  his  conscience  let  him  rest. 

I  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  July  24,  drew  my  pay  for 
the  Omaha  explosion  and  was  sent  by  J.  J.  McNamara  to 
Milwaukee,  with  fourteen  quarts  of  nitro-glycerine  which 
were  taken  from  the  vault  in  the  American  Central  Life 
building.  This  was  contained  in  an  original  ten-quart  can 

58 


and  a  four-quart  varnish  can,  rectangular  in  shape.  The 
larger  can  I  carried  in  a  canvas  telescoping  case  made  at 
the  order  of  J.  J.  McNamara  by  the  Drunker  Trunk  Com- 
pany of  Cincinnati.  It  just  fitted  the  can  and  gave  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  sample  case. 

At  Milwaukee  I  met  William  E.  Redden,  business  agent 
of  Local  No.  8,  my  old  local,  and  he  gave  me  my  instruc- 
tions. It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Redden  was  another 
of  the  men  convicted  at  the  Indianapolis  trial.  I  was  ex- 
pected to  blow  up  a  big  coal  unloader  which  the  Heyl  and 
Patterson  Company  was  erecting  for  the  Milwaukee  West- 
ern Fuel  Company.  J.  J.  McNamara  had  told  me  to  use 
six  quarts  of  glycerine  for  this  so  before  finding  Redden  I 
secured  a  two-quart  and  two  four-quart  varnish  cans  and 
poured  them  full  from  the  larger  can.  This  was  done  at 
the  Atlas  hotel  on  July  25,  where  I  had  registered  as  J. 
W.  McGraw.  It  may  be  thought  that  despite  what  I  say 
as  to  precautions  taken  by  me  to  prevent  loss  of  life  in 
my  explosions,  I  was  taking  awful  chances  in  pouring  the 
glycerine  from  one  can  to  another  in  a  room  in  a  crowded 
hotel.  I  was  taking  awful  chances,  but  by  this  time  I  had 
grown  so  used  to  handling  the  "soup"  that  danger  of  acci- 
dental explosion  did  not  occur  to  me.  Nor  did  an  accidental 
explosion  ever  take  place  in  glycerine  in  my  charge.  I  sunk 
the  empty  can  in  the  Milwaukee  river  and  expressed  the 
carrying  case  to  J.  J.  McNamara. 

Redden  and  I  looked  over  the  work  but  decided  that  it 
had  not  advanced  far  enough  to  enable  me  to  do  any  ma- 
terial damage.  I  was  destined  to  get  that  coal  unloader 
later,  however,  and  when  I  got  it  it  was  totally  wrecked. 

From  Milwaukee  I  started  for  Duluth,  following  J.  J. 
McNamara's  instructions,  but  before  leaving  I  buried  six 
quarts  of  glycerine  in  a  vacant  lot  near  Miller's  brewery. 

59 


The  rest  of  it  I  took  to  Duluth.  En  route  I  spent 
half  a  day  with  my  wife's  brother,  Herman  A.  Swantz,  at 
Portage,  Wis.,  and  then  continued  to  Duluth,  arriving 
there  on  July  28  and  putting  up  at  the  Spaulding  hotel  as 
J.  W.  McGraw.  I  found  that  the  task  I  had  been  assigned 
by  J.  J.  McNamara  was  the  destruction  of  another  coal 
unloader  at  Superior.  On  August  1,  after  spending  a  few 
days  getting  my  bearings  and  visiting  with  another  of  my 
wife's  brothers,  Emil  Swantz,  I  took  the  glycerine  to  Su- 
perior on  a  street  car  and  set  it  in  the  legs  of  the  structure 
over  the  trucks  of  the  unloader.  This  was  at  7  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  The  blast  was  to  occur  at  midnight.  The 
glycerine  was  divided  into  two  portions  and  two  infernal 
machines  were  used.  In  entering  the  yard  I  encountered 
a  watchman  with  a  dog.  I  hid  quickly,  but  my  heart  was 
in  my  throat  for  fear  that  dog  would  smell  me.  I  had  by 
this  time  grown  so  expert  in  dodging  watchmen  that  they 
gave  me  no  concern  unless  there  were  so  many  of  them 
there  was  no  chance  to  dodge.  The  dog,  however,  paid 
no  attention  to  me  and  I  set  the  explosion  without  further 
incident. 

I  was  standing  in  front  of  the  Spaulding  hotel  with  my 
watch  in  my  hand  when  the  explosion  went  off.  I  saw 
that  awful  glare  and  I  knew  that  serious  damage  had  been 
done.  But  when  thirty  minutes  later  another  explosion 
went  off  I  was  badly  frightened  for  fear  that  men  who 
must  have  been  about  the  wreckage  had  been  injured.  This 
was  not  the  case  I  learned  afterward,  but  it  was  several 
days  before  my  nerves  settled  down  again.  The  clock,  of 
course,  had  run  slow  again.  It  developed  that  serious  dam- 
age had  resulted.  The  work  of  constructing  the  unloader 
was  almost  finished  and  my  two  shots  had  torn  it  pretty 
well  to  pieces. 

60 


I  left  Duluth  on  the  morning  of  August  2,  going  to  Win- 
ton,  where  I  visited  another  brother-in-law,  August  Swantz, 
a  sawyer  in  a  mill.  I  took  August  back  to  Chicago  with 
me  and  on  August  9  went  to  Indianapolis,  where  J.  J.  Mc- 
Namara  ordered  me  to  go  to  the  Rochester,  Pa.,  cache  and 
get  twenty  quarts  of  glycerine  for  three  explosions  to  be 
made  at  Kansas  City,  Mo.  I  was  also  instructed  to  get  a 
dozen  clocks  at  Pittsburgh,  as  we  were  again  out  of  in- 
fernal machines.  I  left  Indianapolis  on  the  evening  of 
August  11,  arrived  in  Pittsburgh  in  the  morning  and  got 
the  clocks.  On  August  13  I  went  to  Rochester  and  there 
encountered  the  first  serious  shock  of  my  career  as  a  dyna- 
miter, a  shock  such  as  I  was  only  to  receive  again  when  I 
was  arrested.  The  nitro-glycerine  was  gone! 

I  did  not  discover  this  fact  until  I  had  crawled  under  the 
cooper  shop  where  the  explosive  was  buried.  My  heart 
thumped  and  a  lump  rose  in  my  throat  until  I  could  hardly 
breathe.  I  expected  each  moment  to  be  my  last  and  I 
was  certain  that  if  I  was  not  shot  without  warning,  I  would 
be  arrested. 

But  I  did  not  go  back  to  J.  J.  McNamara  empty  handed. 
Instead  I  went  to  Detroit  and  dug  up  ten  quarts  buried 
there  and  arrived  with  it  in  Indianapolis  on  August  15. 

McNamara  was  furious  at  the  loss  of  the  nitro-glycerine 
and  accused  J.  B.  McNamara  and  me  of  carelessness.  This 
was  a  rank  injustice  as  I  had  had  nothing  to  do  with  mak- 
ing the  Rochester  cache,  but  I  had  my  own  opinion  and  I 
expressed  it.  I  told  him  that  I  thought  Hockin  had  either 
stolen  the  glycerine  or  that  he  had  informed  on  us  and 
the  explosive  had  been  removed  by  detectives.  J.  J.  Mc- 
Namara was  somewhat  impressed  with  this  argument  and 
said  that  a  man  who  would  double-cross  me  as  Hockin  had 
done,  and  double-cross  the  union  by  padding  my  expense 

61 


accounts  for  his  own  gain,  would  be  the  first  to  squeal. 
As  I  mentioned  above,  it  developed  at  the  Indianapolis 
trial  that  Hockin  began  to  give  away  our  secrets  in  July, 
about  two  weeks  before  I  discovered  the  loss  of  the  glycer- 
ine. Informed  of  the  cache  by  Hockin,  L.  L.  Jewell  had 
the  nitro  removed. 

But  J.  J.  McNamara  was  little  interested  in  how  the  ex- 
plosive had  disappeared.  He  had  reached  a  stage  now 
where  he  did  not  care  for  anything  save  an  open  road  to 
destroying  property  and  the  money  it  cost  him  to  do  the 
work.  He  thought  money  and  destruction  all  the  time; 
his  own  money,  or  the  union's  which  he  used  as  his  own, 
and  the  destruction  of  other  people's  property. 

I  waited  in  Indianapolis  while  J.  J.  McNamara  made  up 
the  infernal  machines.  He  gave  me  four  of  these,  two 
more  quarts  of  glycerine  and  caps  for  three  explosions 
and  orders  to  blow  up  a  bridge  McClintock  and  Marshall 
was  building  for  the  Armour  Company  at  Kansas  City  and 
then  go  to  Peoria,  111.,  where  Ed  Smythe,  the  business 
agent,  would  tell  me  what  to  do.  J.  J.  McNamara  was 
going  west  on  an  electioneering  trip,  wishing  to  be  re- 
elected  to  the  office  he  held,  and  said  he  would  be  in  Kansas 
City  on  August  23  and  wanted  the  explosion  there  before 
he  arrived. 

I  got  to  Kansas  City  on  August  19,  prospected  the  bridge 
workings  and  set  the  explosion  on  August  22  in  daylight, 
with  men  working  all  about  me.  The  clock  was  timed  for 
9:30  p.  m.,  but  it  did  not  go  off.  I  thought  I  had  been 
discovered  but  went  to  the  material  pile  and  found  the 
clock  had  gone  off.  Tested  and  found  the  battery  was 
dead.  The  next  day  I  got  a  new  battery  and  reset  the  ex- 
plosion for  that  night.  It  went  off,  doing  small  damage, 
and  I  got  a  10  o'clock  train  for  Peoria. 

62 


In  working  about  the  plant  on  the  night  of  August  21 
I  set  a  four-quart  can  of  glycerine  and  three  machines  in 
some  bushes  and  could  not  find  them  again.  It  was  very 
dark  and  I  did  not  dare  search  for  them,  fearing  to  stumble 
over  them  in  the  dark  and  cause  an  explosion.  They  were 
found  there  about  one  year  later. 

I  arrived  in  Peoria  on  the  morning  of  August  24  and 
found  Smythe  at  his  home,  413  Forsythe  street.  He  took 
me  to  East  Peoria  where  in  the  yards  of  the  Peoria  and 
Pekin  railroad  McClintock  and  Marshall  had  material  stored 
for  a  bridge  they  were  to  build.  We  then  visited  the  foun- 
dry of  Lucas  and  Sons,  in  Peoria. 

"I  want  this  damn  shop  laid  flat  on  the  ground,"  said 
Smythe.  He  also  wanted  a  shot  placed  in  a  little  crane 
in  the  yard. 

I  was  without  explosives  or  machines,  so  went  to  In- 
dianapolis on  August  25  and  that  night  J.  J.  McNamara 
arrived.  He  cursed  me  for  the  loss,  declared  he  could  not 
stand  the  expense  and  that  I  was  getting  careless.  Glycer- 
ine at  that  time  cost  $1.30  per  quart.  I  had  lost  four  quarts. 
I  felt  like  offering  to  stand  the  loss  myself  but  I  did  not. 
His  principal  grievance  was  that  the  lost  glycerine  could 
have  been  made  to  do  $10,000  damage. 

He  had  but  four  quarts  left  in  the  vault  and  that  was 
not  enough,  so  we  had  to  locate  a  well  shooter.  I  went 
to  Albany,  Ind.,  the  next  day  and  heard  of  a  well  shooter 
named  M.  J.  Morehart  at  Portland.  I  arranged  with  him 
for  the  delivery  of  120  quarts  at  Albany  on  Tuesday,  Au- 
gust 30,  and  went  back  to  Indianapolis  and  got  $300  from  J. 
J.  McNamara.  He  told  me  then  to  find  a  cache  near 
Muncie  but  not  to  rent  a  house  as  that  cost  money.  I 
went  to  Muncie,  got  a  wagon  and  team  and  some  packing 
boxes,  but  was  unable  to  locate  a  cache.  Without  know- 

63 


ing  what  I  was  going  to  do  with  it  I  drove  to  Albany  and 
transferred  the  glycerine  to  my  wagon  and  started  back. 
I  was  looking  for  a  cache,  but  I  had  determined  that  if  I 
did  not  find  one  I  would  drive  right  to  the  American  Cen- 
tral Life  building  in  the  heart  of  Indianapolis  and  get  J. 
J.  McNamara  to  help  me  carry  the  stuff  to  the  vault  on 
the  fifth  floor.  And  I  believe  that  had  I  done  so  he  would 
have  thought  nothing  unusual  had  taken  place. 

However,  as  I  was  driving  past  the  Indiana  Wire  and 
Iron  Company  works  near  Muncie  I  saw  a  cinder  pile  and 
in  that  I  cached  the  nitro.  This  was  at  noon  and  had  any- 
one cared  to  look  out  of  a  window  of  the  works  they  could 
have  seen  me  digging  away  in  those  cinders.  I  took  twenty 
quarts  with  me  direct  to  Indianapolis  and  put  it  in  a  trunk 
in  the  vault. 

"I  want  you  to  bring  that  glycerine  here  at  once,"  J.  J. 
told  me.  "This  is  the  safest  place  and  nobody  can  steal  it 
here.  I  would  just  as  soon  have  a  can  or  two  under  my 
desk  for  nobody  on  earth  will  ever  think  of  looking  for  the 
stuff  here." 

The  next  day  I  made  two  trips  to  Muncie  and  thus 
brought  forty  quarts  to  the  vault.  I  made  a  third  trip  at 
night  and  found  a  man  walking  on  the  road  near  the  cinder 
pile.  As  he  walked  past  me  I  stopped  digging,  then  as  he 
turned  off  toward  the  iron  works  I  resumed  my  task,  but 
the  glycerine  was  gone !  I  was  absolutely  certain  then  that 
the  jig  was  up  and  that  it  would  not  be  many  days  before 
we  were  all  arrested. 

A  curious  bit  of  evidence  which  was  used  at  the  Indian- 
apolis trial  and  would  have  been  used  at  the  trial  of  the 
McNamaras  in  Los  Angeles  had  they  not  pleaded  guilty, 
will  be  of  interest  here.  It  is  the  combination  of  the  vault 
in  which  we  kept  the  explosives,  written  in  my  memo- 

64 


randum  book  in  J.  J.  McNamara's  handwriting.  It  is  as 
follows : 

Four  turns  to  the  left  to  20;  three  turns  to  the  right  to 
40;  two  turns  to  the  left  to  80;  right  to  35. 

As  has  been  stated,  it  is  now  known  that  Hockin  was 
furnishing  Jewell  with  information  as  early  as  July  10, 
1910.  I  concluded  then  that  Hockin  had  detectives  on  my 
trail  and  that  it  was  they  who  had  taken  the  explosive. 
Events  of  the  next  few  days  tended  to  confirm  this  sus- 
picion. 

J.  J.  McNamara  had  told  me  to  say  nothing  to  Hockin 
about  J.  B.'s  whereabouts.  I  only  knew  he  was  in  the 
west,  but  when  Hockin  asked  me  a  day  or  so  later  I  told 
him  I  knew  nothing.  I  am  convinced  that  Hockin  wanted 
the  information  to  give  to  Jewell,  and  thus  get  it  to  the 
detectives,  and  I  surmised  that  J.  B.  had  escaped  their  shad- 
ows. In  the  light  of  present  knowledge  of  the  work  of 
detectives  at  that  time  I  am  convinced  that  Burns  was 
trying  to  get  Gompers,  believing  him  to  have  guilty  knowl- 
edge of  the  plot.  This  belief,  probably,  was  based  upon 
the  fact  that  Ryan,  president  of  the  bridgemen,  was  vice- 
president  of  the  American  Federation  of  Labor,  of  which 
Gompers  was  president.  It  would  seem  to  a  suspicious 
man  that  Gompers  must  have  known  of  the  plot. 

According  to  Charles  Catlin,  turnkey  at  the  Los  Angeles 
county  jail,  Gompers  wept  when  he  saw  the  McNamara 
brothers  in  their  cell,  and  begged  them  to  "stand  pat." 

"I  was  assigned  to  duty  inside  the  tank  in  which  the 
McNamaras  were  confined,"  Catlin  told  me,  "and  when 
Samuel  Gompers  entered  the  tank,  he  clasped  the  brothers 
about  the  neck  and  burst  into  tears. 

''  'For  God's  sake,  boys,'  he  cried,  'stand  pat  or  we  are  all 

65 


ruined/  "  Catlin  said  Gompers  said.  After  a  slight  pause 
he  added :  "But  I  know  you  are  innocent." 

"The  trio,"  said  Catlin,  "knew  that  I  was  in  the  cells  with 
them,  but  whether  they  thought  I  could  not  hear  what  was 
said  I  do  not  know.  I  did  not  hear  all  of  their  conversa- 
tion." 

On  September  1,  in  daylight,  I  made  an  extensive  search, 
tearing  that  cinder  pile  to  pieces,  but  without  finding  any- 
thing. I  then  reported  to  J.  J. 

"That  will  not  stop  us  now,"  he  said.  "Take  twenty 
quarts  to  Peoria  and  come  back." 

I  arrived  in  Peoria  that  evening  and  with  Smythe's  aid 
cached  the  glycerine  in  an  orchard  near  the  yard  of  the 
Peoria  and  Pekin  railroad. 

Smythe  and  I  discussed  labor  conditions  which  were  bad 
throughout  the  country.  Three  years  of  almost  continuous 
dynamiting  had  had  the  effect  of  creating  more  open  shops. 
The  convention  of  the  bridgemen  at  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  was 
approaching  and  Smythe  said  he  was  going  to  support 
Ryan,  McNamara  and  Hockin  for  re-election.  I  left  that 
same  evening  and  arrived  in  Indianapolis  at  3  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  after  asking  Smythe  to  get  half  a  dozen  four- 
quart  cans  so  I  could  divide  my  glycerine  when  I  got  back. 

McNamara  ordered  me  to  take  ten  quarts  more  to  Peoria 
and  he  gave  me  four  infernal  machines,  with  instructions 
to  see  if  I  could  not  make  one  machine  explode  more  than 
one  blast.  Smythe  and  I  experimented  with  this  but  the 
batteries  were  too  weak  for  the  work  and  thus  McNa- 
mara's  desire  to  save  the  trifling  cost  of  the  machines  was 
frustrated.  I  arrived  in  Peoria  at  6  o'clock  on  the  after- 
noon of  September  3,  1910,  placed  the  glycerine  with  the 

66 


other  cans  and  registered  at  the  Metropolitan  hotel  as  J. 
W.  McGraw. 

I  went  back  to  the  orchard  later  in  the  evening  and  met 
Smythe  by  appointment.  He  was  soaking  wet  and  cov- 
ered with  cornsilks.  He  had  been  forced  to  dodge  through 
a  cornfield  to  avoid  meeting  some  friends.  Smythe  dug 
up  from  where  he  had  them  planted,  eight  four-quart 
and  four  two-quart  round  fruit  cans.  These,  aside  from 
being  awkward  to  carry,  had  sealed  tops  and  I  was  afraid 
that  I  would  catch  a  drop  between  the  top  and  the  can 
as  I  closed  it  and  thus  cause  an  explosion.  I  told  Smythe 
the  explosion  would  occur  that  night,  so  he  went  to  a 
theater  with  his  wife  and  saved  the  seat  checks  for  an 
alibi. 

I  set  two  ten-quart  cans  in  a  pile  of  material  in  the  rail- 
road yards  with  the  clock  timed  for  an  explosion  at  10 :30 
p.  m.  While  I  was  at  this  work  it  began  to  rain  and  I  was 
soon  soaked  through.  With  the  other  ten-quart  can,  bare 
of  wrappings  as  it  came  from  the  filling  room  at  the  fac- 
tory and  a  two-quart  round  can,  empty,  in  my  hands  and 
two  infernal  machines  in  my  pockets  I  went  to  Peoria  and 
took  shelter  until  the  rain  ceased.  The  glycerine  rode  on 
the  floor  of  the  street  car  between  my  feet.  After  the  storm 
I  went  to  Lucas  Brothers'  foundry  and  with  the  cans  in  my 
hands  climbed  a  high  board  fence  and  got  into  the  yards. 
I  then  poured  two  quarts  into  the  little  can  and  set  it  with 
an  infernal  machine  under  the  crane.  The  doors  to  the 
foundry  were  closed,  but  I  opened  them  and  set  the  re- 
maining eight  quarts  of  glycerine  in  the  jaw  of  a  big  rivet- 
ing machine.  These  clocks  were  also  set  for  10:30  p.  m. 
and  it  was  then  9  o'clock. 

I  was  at  my  hotel  when  the  explosions  went  off.  Those 
at  the  Lucas  foundry  came  close  together.  After  an  inter- 

67 


val  one  of  the  charges  at  the  railroad  yards  exploded  but 
the  other  did  not  and  was  found  the  next  day.  I  got  a 
train  at  midnight  and  arrived  in  Chicago  at  5  o'clock. 
While  my  wife  prepared  breakfast  I  read  the  newspaper 
accounts  of  the  explosion. 

Three  or  four  days  after  this  Hockin  called  me  on  the 
telephone  and  I  met  him  at  the  Federal  building.  There 
we  had  it  out  about  the  money  he  had  withheld  from  me. 
He  asked  me  what  I  was  going  to  do  about  it  and  I  told 
him  there  was  nothing  I  could  do.  He  said  that  his  ex- 
penses had  been  heavy  and  he  had  needed  the  money  him- 
self. I  reminded  him  that  I  was  constantly  running  about 
the  country  with  my  hands  rilled  with  explosives  and  that 
it  seemed  to  me  he  could  have  got  his  money  from  some- 
one else  with  better  grace  or  made  his  expenses  lighter.  I 
refused  to  drink  with  him  and  in  other  ways  informed 
him  that  I  was  finished  with  his  acquaintance. 

On  September  13  I  went  to  Indianapolis  at  J.  J.  McNa- 
mara's  command.  The  Rochester  convention  was  approach- 
ing, and  it  seemed  as  though  everybody  in  the  union  wanted 
an  explosion  to  take  place  in  his  district  while  he  was  away 
from  home  and  thus  beyond  suspicion.  J.  J.  also  com- 
plained about  the  loss  of  the  ten  quarts  which  did  not 
explode  at  Peoria  and  said  I  should  have  retrieved  it.  I 
told  him  I  would  not  have  gone  back  for  it  if  my  life  de- 
pended on  it.  I  threatened  to  quit  and  join  the  Erectors' 
Association. 

"You  won't  last  long  if  you  do,"  J.  J.  said,  and  there 
was  a  mean  look  in  his  eyes.  I  knew  he  meant  business. 

In  making  the  statement  I  had  been  joking,  but  it  set 
me  to  thinking.  I  was  upon  the  point  of  doing  it  but  de- 
cided against  it  because  I  feared  they  would  think  me 
crazy  and  believe  none  of  my  story  save  that  part  about 

68 


the  explosions.  I  realized  that  proof  of  complicity  on  the 
part  of  the  union  would  be  difficult  to  get.  Thus  the  mat- 
ter rested. 

On  September  14,  J.  J.  and  I  arrived  with  twenty  quarts 
of  glycerine  in  Cleveland.  He  went  to  the  Forest  City 
hotel,  carrying  the  explosive,  and  registered  as  George  J. 
Clark.  The  glycerine  was  delivered  to  Pete  Smith  and  I 
returned  to  Indianapolis  while  J.  J.  went  on  to  Rochester. 
He  had  ordered  me  to  take  ten  quarts  from  the  vault  and 
cache  it  at  Beach  Grove,  near  Indianapolis,  in  order  to 
have  it  convenient  in  case  the  executive  board,  at  a.  meet- 
ing to  be  held  at  Rochester,  voted  to  destroy  the  shops  of 
the  Big  Four  railroad  being  built  at  that  place  by  McClin- 
tock  and  Marshall.  I  was  then  to  go  to  Milwaukee  and 
blow  up  the  new  coal  unloader  of  the  Milwaukee  Western 
Fuel  Company  being  built  by  Heyl  and  Patterson  while 
William  Redden  and  other  delegates  were  at  the  conven- 
tion and  were  thus  provided  with  alibis.  This  was  the  job 
which  I  had  looked  over  before  and  found  not  far  enough 
advanced  to  justify  an  explosion.  I  found  this  still  to  be 
the  case  and  that  the  work  was  also  better  guarded  and 
lighted  than  it  had  been,  and  I  suspected  that  the  watch- 
men were  looking  for  the  dynamiter.  I  buried  six  quarts 
on  the  river  near  the  Wisconsin  Ice  Company's  storage 
houses  and  went  to  Chicago.  I  had  seen  Bill  Shoup,  busi- 
ness agent,  and  Jim  Coughlin,  assistant  business  agent  of 
the  Chicago  local,  as  I  passed  through  en  route  to  Mil- 
waukee, but  they  were  not  versed  in  dynamiting  and  each 
put  it  up  to  the  other.  They  told  me  they  wanted  me  to 
destroy  a  plant  which  was  being  erected  between  Pine  and 
Gary,  Ind.,  by  the  Pittsburgh  Construction  Company,  while 
they  were  at  the  convention,  but  they  would  not  help  me 
locate  the  work.  When  I  returned  to  Chicago  on  Septem- 

69 


her  19,  they  had  gone  to  the  convention.  I  looked  about 
in  that  section  but  could  not  locate  the  job,  so  returned 
to  Indianapolis. 

There  I  rilled  two  four-quart  varnish  cans  with  glycerine 
from  the  supply  in  the  vault  and  buried  these  near  Pine, 
111.,  on  September  21.  They  are  there  yet. 

I  returned  to  Indianapolis  on  September  28  and  on  the 
following  day  cached  thirty  quarts  of  glycerine,  all  that 
the  vault  contained,  in  a  creek  bottom  near  Beach  Grove. 

That  night  J.  J.  returned  to  Indianapolis.  He  had  told 
me  on  leaving  that  if  there  were  to  be  any  other  explosions 
while  the  convention  was  in  session  besides  those  at  Mil- 
waukee and  Pine,  he  would  write  to  me  at  the  Indianapolis 
general  delivery  as  McGraw.  He  now  asked  me  why  I 
had  neglected  his  orders  and  it  developed  that  he  had  sent 
the  letter  under  my  true  name.  The  next  day  he  got  that 
letter  out  of  the  postoffice  and  I  don't  know  yet  what 
plant  had  been  ordered  damaged. 

On  September  29  and  30  I  loafed  about  Indianapolis, 
my  mind  at  ease.  Those  were  the  last  easy  moments  I 
have  experienced,  for  on  October  1  the  awfulness  of  it  all 
was  borne  in  upon  me  as  I  had  never  felt  it  before. 

Having  gone  through  four  years  of  dynamiting  without 
harming  a  single  person,  intentionally  or  unintentionally, 
I  think  it  is  permitted  of  me  to  say  of  myself  that  I  am 
not  and  never  was,  blood-thirsty.  By  the  fall  of  1910  I 
had  become  well  calloused  to  dynamiting  property.  Cus- 
tom makes  the  laws  by  which  we  are  governed,  be  they  of 
a  political,  social  or  individual  nature.  It  had  been  for 
almost  four  years  customary  for  me  to  dynamite  property, 
therefore  I  was  reaching  a  point  where  I  gave  it  little  or 
no  thought.  Now,  however,  I  was  to  realize  completely 
for  the  first  time,  the  position  in  which  I  was  placed. 

70 


The  morning  papers  of  October  1  carried  the  news  of 
the  dynamiting  of  the  Los  Angeles  Times  building.  Twenty 
persons  were  killed,  caught  like  rats  in  a  trap,  as  they  were 
laboring  as  free  American  citizens  to  provide  for  their  fam- 
ilies. Some  of  them  were  burned  to  death.  Others  were 
killed  instantly  by  the  explosion ;  others  leaped  from  win- 
dows and  lingered  for  days  before  the  tender  mercy  of  the 
grave,  kinder  than  the  heart  of  the  man  who  had  caused 
their  suffering,  relieved  their  pain. 

I  was  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  doom  and  naturally 
I  sought  the  mind  which  had  mastered  mine  and  was  guid- 
ing it.  I  went  to  the  office  of  J.  J.  McNamara  and  found 
him  cheerfully  reading  the  details  of  this  horror. 

"Seen  the  morning  papers?"  he  asked  with  a  smile. 

"It's  about  as  bad  as  it  can  get,"  I  replied,  soberly.  "Did 
J.  B.  do  that?" 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  did,"  J.  J.  replied. 

"But  think  of  the  people,"  I  said. 

"That's  all  right.  This  will  make  them  sit  up  and  take 
notice,  and  that's  what  J.  B.  went  out  to  the  coast  to  do." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  between  us  and  then 
he  said : 

"I  don't  know  that  I  like  this  mixing  in  with  other  unions. 
That  wild  San  Francisco  bunch  did  this  and  it  seems  to  me 
that  if  we  take  care  of  our  own  line  of  work  we'll  have 
our  hands  full.  But  it  sure  did  shake  things  up." 

I  was  too  blue  to  talk  further  about  it  and  J.  J.  began 
talking  of  work  for  me  to  do  and  told  me  that  he  had  a 
letter  from  F.  C.  Webb  in  New  York,  referring  to  a  depot 
which  the  Phoenix  Bridge  Co.  was  erecting  for  the  New 
York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford  railroad  at  Worcester, 
Mass.  Webb  said  that  Roxy  Kline  was  superintendent 
of  the  work  and  that  he  thought  J.  B.  or  me  would  handle 

71 


it  better.  McNamara  said  he  wanted  an  immediate  echo 
in  the  east  of  the  "noise  in  the  west"  and  told  me  to  take 
eight  quarts  of  glycerine  and  get  to  Worcester  as  soon  as 
possible.  I  arrived  there  on  October  3  and  set  the  blast 
on  Sunday  night,  October  6.  One  was  put  under  a  derrick 
car  and  one  on  the  end  of  a  girder  on  an  overhead  street 
crossing.  It  went  off  at  midnight  and  was  highly  suc- 
cessful. 

I  went  to  Boston,  remained  there  a  few  hours  and  trav- 
eled through  Worcester  that  morning  to  Springfield,  where 
I  had  orders  to  look  over  the  municipal  group  of  buildings 
and  report  as  to  whether  it  was  worth  an  explosion  at 
that  time.  I  stopped  in  Springfield  at  the  Hinckley  hotel 
as  William  King.  That  same  evening  I  arrived  in  New 
York  to  find  Webb,  but  he  was  out  of  town.  The  next 
morning  I  went  to  Pittsburgh,  where  I  bought  some  more 
clocks  and  spent  the  night  at  the  St.  Charles  hotel  as  J. 
W.  McGraw.  I  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  October  15. 

J.  J.  McNamara  and  I  again  discussed  the  Times  ex- 
plosion. J.  J.  said  he  had  learned  that  J.  B.  had  caused 
the  destruction  and  that  he  was  200  miles  from  Los  An- 
geles when  it  went  off. 

"He  hid  in  San  Francisco  two  days  and  then  got  to 
cover  elsewhere,"  said  J.  J. 

On  Saturday,  October  16,  I  left  Indianapolis  for  Lexing- 
ton, Ky.,  where  I  put  up  at  the  Reed  hotel  as  William 
King.  On  the  next  day,  following  J.  J.'s  orders,  I  went 
to  Highbridge,  Ky.,  to  look  over  a  bridge  the  American 
Bridge  Company  was  building  for  the  Queen  &  Crescent 
route,  which  J.  J.  wanted  dynamited.  I  found  no  watch- 
men and  splendid  opportunity  and  so  reported  to  J.  J.  at 
Indianapolis  the  next  day.  J.  J.  was  busy  with  some  con- 

72 


vention  reports  which  had  to  be  made  at  once  and  I  was 
told  to  go  to  Chicago  and  wait. 

A  week  later  I  arranged  with  Marion  Sharp,  620  Ex- 
change street,  Kenosha,  Wis.,  to  go  with  him  and  several 
others  on  a  hunting  trip. 

On  November  4  J.  J.  McNamara  came  to  Chicago  and 
told  me  he  had  an  explosion  in  sight.  I  told  him  I  was 
going  hunting  on  Monday  and  hated  to  give  it  up.  He 
asked  me  many  details  of  the  trip  and  finally  asked  if  the 
party  could  stand  an  addition  of  one  man.  Louis  Zeiss, 
a  brother  of  my  old  roommate,  Fred  Zeiss ;  Willie  and 
Charles  Lawrence  and  Marion  Sharp  were  going  with  me 
and  I  said  I  supposed  they  would  not  care. 

J.  J.  then  told  me  that  he  wanted  J.  B.  to  go  to  the  woods 
and  hide  for  awhile.  We  did  not  know  then  that  Burns 
was  after  us  and  never  learned  of  it  until  we  read  it  in  a 
magazine  article  some  time  later. 

"J.  B.  has  changed  so  much  his  own  sister  did  not 
know  him,"  said  J.  J.  "You  and  J.  B.  stay  up  there  until 
the  close  of  the  hunting  season  no  matter  what  the  others 
do.  J.  B.  calls  himself  Frank  Sullivan,  and  for  heaven's 
sake  don't  make  a  slip  on  his  name.  When  you  get  to  the 
woods  and  are  settled  send  me  a  note,  'Our  old  friend  the 
carpenter  is  looking  well/  and  address  it  to  J.  J.  Sandusky, 
P.  O.  Box  1,  Indianapolis.  Then  I'll  know  you  are  all  right 
in  the  woods." 

That  night  Hockin  called  me  on  the  telephone  and  asked 
me  if  I  had  seen  the  "queer  guy,"  meaning  J.  B.  At  that 
time  there  was  some  suspicion  that  J.  B.'s  mind  had  be- 
come unbalanced.  He  urged  me  to  stand  pat  if  I  met  any- 
body in  the  woods,  a  warning  which  had  a  great  deal  of 
significance,  had  I  but  known  it,  as  we  were  followed  by 
Burns  detectives  into  the  woods  and  kept  under  watch 

73 


during  our  entire  stay.  The  detectives  passed  as  hunters 
and  J.  B.  even  posed  for  photographs  for  them. 

We  got  to  Kenosha  on  Sunday,  November  5,  and  before 
breakfast  J.  B.  called  me  on  the  phone  at  Sharp's  house. 
He  was  at  the  Eikelman  hotel.  Our  party  went  down 
town  and  met  him  and  I  narrowly  checked  myself  intro- 
ducing him  as  Brice,  by  which  name  I  almost  always 
called  him. 

We  had  several  drinks  and  J.  B.  was  rapidly  getting 
drunk. 

On  this  statement  United  States  Senator  Kern,  counsel 
for  the  defense  at  the  Indianapolis  trial,  closely  questioned 
me,  thinking  that  I  had  misstated  the  fact  or  the  date.  I 
had  already  testified,  as  I  wrote  above,  that  the  day  was 
Sunday  and  he  wanted  to  know  how  we  got  a  drink  on 
that  day. 

"The  back  door,"  I  said,  and  a  laugh  went  around  the 
courtroom. 

When  I  went  with  J.  B.  to  get  a  hunting  license  for 
him,  a  most  accurate  description  of  him  was  taken.  This 
made  him  uneasy  and  suspicious.  He  had  grounds  for  un- 
easiness but  not  for  suspicion,  as  a  number  of  hunters  are 
killed  in  that  country  every  year  by  being  mistaken  for 
deer  in  the  woods,  and  the  authorities  are  careful  in  issuing 
licenses. 

On  November  7  we  made  camp  five  miles  southeast  of 
Conover,  Wis.  On  November  9  I  was  hunting  alone  in 
the  woods  when  I  heard  a  pistol  shot  and  the  zipp  of  a 
bullet  as  it  whistled  by  my  ear.  I  mounted  a  stump  and 
saw  J.  B.  a  hundred  yards  down  a  hillside.  I  suspected 
from  the  first  that  he  was  trying  to  kill  me  and  I  have 
never  changed  my  mind.  I  went  down  to  him  and  asked 
him  what  he  was  shooting  at.  He  said: 

74 


"A  rabbit." 

The  ground  was  covered  with  snow  and  I  found  no 
tracks.  I  taxed  him  with  trying  to  kill  me  and  he  admitted 
he  had  shot  to  scare  me. 

We  sat  down  on  a  log,  silently  for  some  time,  when  sud- 
denly he  burst  out : 

"If  they  ever  catch  me  they'll  take  me  back  to  Los 
Angeles  and  hang  me  without  a  trial.  I  never  expected 
to  kill  so  many  people." 

He  said  he  got  to  San  Francisco  four  days  after  leaving 
me  at  Chicago.  E.  A.  Clancy,  international  first  vice-presi- 
dent of  the  bridgemen's  union,  introduced  him  to  M.  A. 
Schmidt  and  Dave  Caplin,  both  of  whom  are  now  fugitives 
from  justice.  Caplin  is  believed  to  be  dead. 

Schmidt  had  an  infernal  machine  for  setting  houses  on 
fire  which  was  somewhat  similar  to  the  ones  I  was  using. 
The  release  of  the  alarm  shot  a  bolt  through  a  small  bottle 
contained  within  a  can  and  broke  it.  The  mixture  of  the 
liquids  in  bottle  and  can  produced  a  flame.  He  said  a 
friend  of  Olaf  Tvietmoe  had  provided  the  chemicals.  This 
was  the  first  I  ever  heard  of  Tvietmoe,  of  San  Francisco, 
secretary-treasurer  of  the  State  Buildings  Trade  Council, 
who  was  also  convicted  at  Indianapolis  on  the  conspiracy 
charge. 

J.  B.  said  the  "Coast  Bunch"  was  lavish  with  money  and 
that  he  had  been  given  $3000  in  three  months.  He  got  it 
$500  at  a  time. 

He  told  me  of  setting  explosions  at  Seattle  and  Oakland 
as  well  as  of  the  Times  affair.  Schmidt  and  Caplin  helped 
him  get  the  nitro-gelatine,  80  per  cent  strong,  from  the 
Giant  Powder  Works  at  Giant,  Cal. 

"Tvietmoe  ordered  Schmidt,  Caplin  and  me  to  look  over 
the  Times,"  said  J.  B.  "Schmidt  picked  up  a  woman  in 

75 


San  Francisco  so  I  insisted  that  he  stay  there.  I  regis- 
tered at  two  hotels.  I  lived  at  the  Baltimore,  on  Fifth 
street,  and  made  the  machines  at  the  other,  the  name  of 
which  I  don't  remember.  I  set  twenty  pounds  of  nitro- 
gelatine  attached  to  a  machine  in  the  Times  building, 
among  some  ink  barrels.  The  whole  shot  was  in  a  suit 
case.  I've  seen  the  place  where  I  set  it  called  Ink  Alley 
in  the  newspapers  since.  It  was  timed  for  1  o'clock  the 
next  morning. 

"Then  I  went  to  the  home  of  General  Harrison  Gray 
Otis,  owner  of  the  Times  and  the  leader  of  the  open  shop 
forces  in  the  west,  and  set  a  similar  charge  under  his 
window.  Next  I  went  to  the  home  of  F.  J.  Zeehandelaar, 
secretary  of  the  Merchants  and  Manufacturers  Association, 
the  organization  of  the  open  shop  people  in  Los  Angeles, 
and  placed  another  suit  case  ready  to  explode  under  his 
house. 

"After  setting  these  I  caught  a  train  for  San  Francisco 
and  was  200  miles  away  when  the  explosion  occurred. 
The  Times  bomb  was  the  only  one  to  go  off. 

"I  remained  in  San  "Francisco  four  days.  Caplin  and 
I  threw  a  suit  case  containing  four  machines  into  San 
Francisco  bay  as  I  went  to  Oakland  to  take  a  train  east. 
I  gave  Caplin  a  claim  check  and  told  him  to  be  sure  and 
get  a  suit  case  which  I  had  left  in  the  ferry  building  check 
room.  This  contained  one  of  Schmidt's  machines,  some 
fuse  and  three  copies  of  the  San  Francisco  Bulletin,  dates 
of  October  1,  2  and  3,  containing  accounts  of  the  Times 
explosion.  This  case  was  to  be  thrown  into  the  bay." 

Caplin  did  not  do  this  and  some  weeks  later  the  case 
was  opened  by  the  parcel  room  attendant  and  the  things 
J.  B.  described  were  found.  This  was  the  first  clue  De- 
tective Burns  secured  connecting  J.  B.  McNamara  with 

76 


the  Times  explosion.  It  was  only  a  few  days  before  he 
had  shadows  on  J.  B.'s  trail  and  he  arrested  him  the 
moment  things  looked  propitious.  The  detective  work  done 
in  this  case  was,  to  my  mind,  the  most  brilliant  that  has 
ever  attracted  the  attention  of  the  American  public. 

In  the  detection  of  the  man  who  set  the  Times  explo- 
sion Burns  was  not  helped  by  any  traitorous  influence. 
Hockin  was  unable  to  give  any  information  as  to  J.  B.'s 
movements  because  he  did  not  even  know  where  he  was. 
It  was  to  learn  this  that  he  questioned  me  in  Chicago  and 
failing  there,  he  had  no  source  to  turn  to,  as  J.  J.  Mc- 
Namara,  suspecting  him,  would  of  course  not  tell  him. 

J.  B.  said  he  left  Oakland  for  Indianapolis  but  at  Salt 
Lake  City  left  the  train  because  people  were  "looking  at 
him."  The  result  of  his  work  at  Los  Angeles  had  shattered 
his  nerves  and  when  I  last  saw  him  in  the  Los  Angeles  coun- 
ty jail  he  was  still  nervous.  At  Salt  Lake  he  was  shielded 
for  two  weeks,  he  said,  by  J.  E.  Munsey  (Jack  Bright), 
business  agent  of  the  bridgeman's  local.  He  let  his  beard 
grow  and  called  himself  Williams.  Then  he  went  to  the 
home  of  his  sister  in  Nebraska  and  remained  there  until 
J.  J.  sent  Frank  EckofF  from  Indianapolis,  to  get  him  and 
take  care  of  him. 

Eckoff  was  a  government  witness  at  the  Indianapolis 
trials  and  testified  that  J.  B.  begged  him  to  go  into  the 
field  with  him  and  shoot  him  and  tell  his  sister  it  was  an 
accident.  They  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  November  1. 
J.  B.  registered  at  the  Plaza  hotel  as  Frank  Sullivan  and 
then  joined  me  in  the  woods.  He  was  then  a  nervous 
wreck,  almost  insane  and  I  am  certain  that  he  shot  to 
kill  me  and  did  not  care  whether  I  returned  the  fire  and 
killed  him. 

He  was  blood  thirsty  afterward.     He  asked  me  one  day 

77 


to  hold  a  can  in  my  hand  while  he  shot  at  it.  He  was  a 
dead  shot  and  on  one  occasion  I  saw  him  kill  a  porcupine 
seventy-five  feet  away  with  a  pistol. 

After  J.  B.  told  me  the  story  of  the  Times  explosion 
and  I  saw  how  it  had  affected  him  I  could  not  get  it  off 
my  mind,  but  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  live  on 
and  see  what  would  happen.  I  had  reached  a  point  where 
my  emotions  were  dead.  Nothing  gave  me  a  sensation 
of  fear;  I  felt  no  courage.  The  trip  to  the  woods  might 
just  as  well  have  not  been  made  for  all  the  good  it  did  me. 

About  the  end  of  November  J.  B.  went  to  Conover  to 
buy  groceries  and  to  get  our  mail.  Sharp,  Willie  Lawrence 
and  Zeiss  had  returned  to  their  homes.  J.  B.  got  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  me  on  the  stationery  of  the  "Capital  Construction 
Co.,"  a  dummy  which  J.  J.  used,  and  opened  it.  J.  J.  had  been 
ready  to  leave  for  the  American  Federation  of  Labor  con- 
vention at  St.  Louis  at  the  time  we  left  for  the  woods  and 
had  told  me  he  would  see  the  Coast  Bunch  and  let  us  know 
how  things  were  out  there.  This  letter  said,  "Met  friends 
from  the  coast.  Everything  is  quiet  out  there."  On  the 
strength  of  this  encouraging  news  J.  B.  got  drunk.  I  went 
to  Conover  the  next  day,  Sunday,  and  found  him  sur- 
rounded by  several  men  who  were  camped  near  us  and 
who  afterward  proved  to  be  Burns  detectives.  I  learned 
later  that  when  I  left  Indianapolis  to  go  to  Chicago  to  pre- 
pare for  the  hunting  trip  Hockin  took  Raymond  Burns 
to  the  depot  and  pointed  me  out  to  him.  They  were 
camped  near  us  and  we  saw  them  frequently.  It  was  on 
this  Sunday  that  J.  B.  posed  for  them  and  again  on  De- 
cember 4.  The  hunting  season  ends  December  3  and  on 
that  day  I  went  to  Chicago,  J.  B.  staying  at  the  camp  until 
December  5.  The  day  before  he  left  he  was  at  Sucker 
lake,  near  the  camp,  and  posed  for  the  picture.  The  name 

78 


of  the  lake  and  the  action  of  J.  B.  in  this  matter  are  sug- 
gestive. 

J.  B.  joined  me  at  my  house  in  Chicago  on  December 
8  and  left  at  noon  for  Indianapolis.  On  December  8  I 
went  to  Indianapolis  on  receipt  of  a  wire  from  J.  J.  Mc- 
Namara.  J.  B.  met  me  at  the  train  on  the  morning  of 
December  9  and  J.  J.  gave  me  instructions  to  go  to  Los  An- 
geles and  damage  or  destroy  the  Times  auxiliary  plant, 
the  Llewellyn  Iron  Works,  the  Baker  Iron  Works,  the 
Hall  of  Records  and  the  Alexandria  hotel  annex.  The  two 
last  named  buildings  were  then  in  course  of  construction. 
I  was  to  take  twelve  quarts  of  glycerine.  He  said  that 
he  had  promised  the  "coast  bunch"  a  Christmas  present 
and  he  wanted  the  explosions  to  come  off  on  Christmas 
day. 

The  Times  auxiliary  plant  comprised  the  building  and  ma- 
chinery which  General  Otis,  anticipating  for  years  some  at- 
tempt to  destroy  his  property,  had  held  in  reserve  for  an 
emergency.  Despite  the  havoc  wrought  by  J.  B.  in  the 
Times  plant  the  grizzled  old  war  veteran  never  missed  an 
edition  of  his  paper,  for  within  an  hour  after  the  explosion 
the  auxiliary  presses  were  grinding  out  an  issue  telling 
the  story.  This  had  been  overlooked  by  the  "coast  bunch" 
and  now  I  was  to  destroy  it. 

"Be  sure  and  get  a  good  mess  under  the  Times  auxiliary," 
said  J.  B.,  who  was  present  as  I  got  my  instructions,  "and 
add  another  dozen  or  so  to  the  list." 

I  told  them  I  would  look  into  it  but  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  if  there  was  any  danger  of  killing  people  there  would 
be  no  explosion  in  the  Times  plant  or  anywhere  else. 

I  had  to  go  to  Beach  Grove  to  get  the  glycerine  from 
the  cache  there  and  in  doing  this  I  had  the  closest  call 
of  my  career.  The  ground  was  frozen  and  I  had  to  use 

79 


the  utmost  caution  in  unearthing  the  explosive.  Then,  with 
a  10-quart  can  in  one  hand  and  a  2-quart  can  in  the  other 
I  lost  my  footing  and  fell  down  an  embankment  six  feet 
high.  After  I  stopped  falling  I  slid  for  some  distance  on 
the  sleet  covered  ground.  I  thought  when  I  felt  myself 
go  that  it  was  the  end  of  earthly  things  for  me,  but  for 
some  reason,  or  despite  reasons,  the  stuff  did  not  explode. 
Certainly  I  was  not  born  to  be  blown  up. 

With  instructions  to  avoid  all  labor  leaders  in  Los  Angeles 
but  to  see  those  in  San  Francisco  after  the  explosion,  and 
to  write  from  Chicago  on  my  return,  I  left  Indianapolis 
on  December  10,  spent  two  days  in  Chicago  and  arrived 
in  Los  Angeles  December  15.  I  put  up  at  the  Rosslyn 
hotel  as  T.  F.  McKee.  There  I  had  room  No.  255.  In  the 
evening  I  cached  the  glycerine  in  the  bed  of  the  Los  An- 
geles river. 

It  may  be  of  some  interest  to  note  here  that  on  Septem- 
ber 11,  1911,  nearly  a  year  later,  I  went  with  Police  Detec- 
tives C.  H.  Jones  and  Bruce  Boyd  and  Burns  Detective 
Malcolm  MacLaren,  to  the  spot  where  this  cache  had  been 
made  and  proved  to  them  that  it  was  the  spot  by  unearth- 
ing some  cardboard  and  a  cap  which  had  exploded  by  acci- 
dent,-injuring  my  hand.  Some  pieces  of  the  cap  remained 
in  the  hand  and  were  extracted  by  my  wife  when  I  re- 
turned to  Chicago. 

I  arrived  in  Los  Angeles  on  a  Thursday.  On  the  fol- 
lowing Sunday  I  located  the  Times  auxiliary  plant.  They 
were  putting  in  a  new  press,  and  after  studying  their  sys- 
tem of  work  I  decided  that  I  would  not  place  the  shot  as 
there  were  people  in  the  building  at  all  hours,  day  and 
night.  It  was  also  well  lighted  and  guarded  and  doubtless 
I  would  have  been  unable  to  plant  the  charge  had  I  desired 
to  do  so. 

80 


On  December  23  or  24  I  took  a  trolley  trip  around  the 
vicinity  of  Los  Angeles  and  was  photographed  with  the 
rest  of  the  sightseers  at  San  Gabriel  mission.  On  De- 
cember 24  I  located  the  Llewellyn  Iron  Works  and  the 
Baker  Iron  Works.  I  saw  there  was  no  chance  for  an  ex- 
plosion at  the  latter  place  on  account  of  lights  and  guards. 

At  the  Llewellyn  works  I  entered  the  building  and  found 
a  night  shift  working.  I  decided  that  death  would  result 
from  a  blast  placed  inside  the  building  and  was  upon  the 
point  of  withdrawing  when  a  watchman  appeared  near 
me.  I  hid  beside  a  pile  of  material  and  he  walked  by  me 
so  close  that  I  could  have  touched  him.  I  then  got  out- 
side, placed  the  glycerine  against  the  wall  of  the  building, 
set  the  clock  for  2  a.  m.  Christmas  day,  and  caught  a  train 
at  9:20  p.  m.  for  San  Francisco.  I  never  located  the  hall 
of  records  or  the  Alexandria  annex. 

I  registered  as  Ed  Todd  at  the  Argonaut  hotel  in  San 
Francisco  and  on  Tuesday,  Dec.  27,  met  E.  A.  Clancy  at 
the  labor  temple.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  heard  of  the 
latest  explosion  in  Los  Angeles  and,  before  he  knew  who 
I  was,  told  me  that  he  had  been  expecting  it.  We  dis- 
cussed the  labor  situation  and  I  left  San  Francisco  on 
December  28,  arriving  in  Chicago  on  New  Year's  day. 
I  remained  there  until  January  15,  when  J.  J.  called  me 
to  Indianapolis  and  scolded  because  there  had  been  but 
one  explosion  at  Los  Angeles  and  but  little  damage  done. 
I  told  him  he  was  lucky  to  have  had  an  explosion  there 
at  all. 

We  had  no  explosives  left  and  it  was  therefore  now  nec- 
essary to  lay  in  a  new  supply.  J.  B.  suggested  that  we 
get  back  to  dynamite  as  being  easier  to  handle  and  also 
because,  having  had  so  much  glycerine  stolen,  the  use  of 
dynamite  would  suggest  to  whoever  was  watching  us  that 

81 


two  gangs  were  operating.  Accordingly  I  tried  to  buy 
some  nitro  gelatine  from  the  Independent  Torpedo  Com- 
pany at  Findlay,  O.,  but  they  did  not  make  it.  I  then 
went  to  Bloomville,  broke  into  the  magazine  at  France's 
quarry  and  stole  six  50-pound  cases  of  sixty  per  cent  dyna- 
mite, and  forty  loose  sticks.  These  I  stored  in  a  building 
on  my  father's  abandoned  stone  quarry  at  Tiffin,  O.  I 
then  returned  to  Indianapolis,  putting  up  at  the  Stubbins 
house  as  Ed.  Todd.  On  Monday,  January  23,  J.  B.  and 
I  went  to  the  farm  of  Ed.  Jones,  near  Indianapolis,  intro- 
duced ourselves  as  J.  W.  McGraw  and  Frank  Sullivan 
and  arranged  to  use  his  barn  as  a  storage  house.  We  did 
not  tell  him  what  we  wanted  to  store,  but  I  have  never 
had  any  doubt  that  he  knew.  We  put  a  piano  box  in  the 
barn  and  then  went  to  Tiffin  and  transported  the  stolen 
dynamite  to  the  farm. 

On  January  31  we  went  back  to  Tiffin,  hired  a  wagon 
and  hauled  fourteen  cases  of  dynamite  from  France's  mag- 
azine and  stored  this  in  my  father's  quarry.  Later  we  ar- 
ranged with  my  father  to  use  the  shed  in  the  quarry  "to 
store  some  tools,"  I  introducing  J.  B.  as  my  employer. 
A  policeman  lived  across  the  street  from  the  shed  and  my 
father,  perfectly  innocent  of  what  we  were  about,  asked 
the  policeman  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  shed  to  see  that  no 
one  stole  the  "tools." 

On  February  111  became  ill  and  went  to  Chicago,  where 
J.  B.  joined  me  on  February  19.  J.  J.  wanted  us  to  look 
over  the  plant  of  the  Iroquois  Iron  Works  in  South  Chi- 
cago with  a  view  to  blowing  it.  Ed.  Francis,  former  busi- 
ness agent  of  the  Chicago  local,  had  offered  to  blow  down 
the  cupola  of  this  plant  for  $500.  He  was  suspected  of 
being  a  spy  for  the  Wisconsin  Bridge  Company  and  got 
no  encouragement.  The  local  referred  the  matter  to  Hock- 

82 


in,  who  offered  to  place  four  blasts  for  $300  and  expenses. 
J.  B.  and  I  looked  the  place  over  and  agreed  to  do  the 
work.  It  was  apparently  the  easiest  job  we  had  encoun- 
tered. There  were  no  watchmen,  the  lighting  system  was 
poor  and  we  saw  at  once  that  we  would  have  no  trouble 
in  placing  the  blasts  wherever  we  wanted  them. 

We  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  February  20,  got  80  sticks 
of  dynamite  from  Jones'  barn  and  orders  from  J.  J.  to 
blow  the  plant  on  Tuesday  night,  while  all  the  officers 
of  the  local  No.  1  at  Chicago  were  attending  the  regular 
meeting  of  the  union,  as  this  wouid  furnish  them  with  an 
alibi. 

We  arrived  in  Chicago  that  evening  with  two  suit  cases 
filled  with  frozen  dynamite.  This  we  put  near  the  furnace 
in  the  basement  of  my  house  to  thaw  but  it  did  not  and 
the  following  morning  we  put  it  on  top  of  the  radiator 
in  our  living  room,  where  it  set  all  day  without  thawing. 
While  it  was  still  on  the  radiator  we  went  to  the  plant 
to  get  our  bearings  and  then  encountered  trouble. 

The  place  swarmed  with  watchmen  who  were  wide  awake 
and  walking  about  the  yard  constantly.  The  yard  was 
better  lighted  than  it  had  been  and  there  were  other  in- 
dications that  the  company  had  been  warned  of  our  com- 
ing and  were  looking  for  us.  I  refused  to  go  into  the  yard. 

The  next  day  we  looked  it  over  by  daylight  and  found 
many  signs  of  watchfulness  even  then.  We  returned  to 
my  home  and  found  the  dynamite  still  frozen.  We  then 
decided  to  do  the  work  on  Thursday  but  on  that  day  I 
got  a  terrific  headache  from  handling  the  dynamite,  in  try- 
ing to  thaw  it,  and  could  not  go  out.  In  the  evening  J.  B., 
myself,  my  wife  and  Mrs.  Sadie  McGuire,  wife  of  "South" 
McGuire,  a  bridgeman  who  lived  near  us,  went  to  a  theater. 
The  McGuires  were  ignorant  of  the  plot.  I  learned  after- 

83 


ward  that  Malcom  MacLaren,  then  a  Burns  detective  and 
now  chief  of  detectives  for  J.  D.  Fredericks,  district  attor- 
ney of  Los  Angeles  county,  occupied  a  seat  just  behind 
me,  and  had  had  us  spotted  for  days. 

In  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  February  24,  J.  B.  and  I 
took  the  dynamite  out  to  South  Chicago  and  spent  an  hour 
trying  to  get  into  the  works.  We  simply  could  not  do  it. 
I  wanted  to  throw  the  dynamite  away,  but  finally  we  set 
sixty  sticks  in  one  charge  and  twenty  in  another  along 
the  fence  on  the  outside.  We  were  at  home  when  they 
went  off.  The  damage  was  slight. 

On  March  1  I  went  to  Indianapolis  with  J.  B.  on  a  call 
from  J.  J.  and  registered  at  the  Stubbins  hotel  as  Charles 
Fisher.  I  then  got  the  final  order  to  blow  up  the  coal 
unloader  of  the  Milwaukee  Western  Fuel  Company,  the 
work  which  I  had  twice  visited  on  inspection  trips.  J.  B. 
was  to  go  to  French  Lick  and  blow  up  an  addition  being 
built  for  the  French  Lick  hotel.  His  explosion  was  suc- 
cessful and  the  next  day  the  job  was  unionized. 

I  took  forty  sticks  of  dynamite  and  reached  Milwaukee 
on  March  15,  1911,  registering  at  the  Atlas  hotel  as  G. 
Watson.  The  next  day  I  retrieved  6  quarts  of  glycerine 
I  had  buried  near  the  storage  houses  of  the  Wisconsin 
Ice  Company  and  that  night  set  the  shots.  I  put  four 
quarts  of  glycerine  and  twenty  sticks  of  dynamite  in  the 
legs  at  one  end  of  the  unloader  and  the  rest  of  the  ex- 
plosives at  the  other  end.  I  set  the  clocks  at  7  p.  m.  to 
go  off  at  11  p.  m.  and  was  in  Chicago  an  hour  before  the 
explosion,  which  totally  wrecked  the  unloader  with  a  loss 
of  $150,000  and  $10,000  damage  to  a  vessel  in  the  canal. 

I  arrived  in  Indianapolis  on  March  18  and  registered 
at  the  Stubbins  as  Charles  Miller. 

"That's  the  kind  of  work  to  do,"  said  J.  J.  gleefully  as 

84 


I  entered  his  office.  "One  or  two  more  like  that  and  we'll 
have  them  on  the  run." 

Hockin  was  in  the  office  at  the  time  and  left  while  J.  J. 
and  I  were  talking.  I  did  not  see  him  again  until  October, 
1912,  when  he  faced  the  bar  of  justice  at  Indianapolis. 

On  J.  J.  McNamara's  orders  I  left  that  night  for  Omaha 
to  blow  up  the  court  house,  then  being  constructed  by 
Caldwell  &  Drake,  taking  forty  sticks  with  me.  J.  B.  was 
to  go  to  the  Caldwell  &  Drake  shops  at  Columbus,  Ind., 
and  blow  that  plant.  When  I  was  ready  at  Omaha  I  was 
to  telegraph  to  J.  J.,  "Kindly  forward  $100  check  to  Lin- 
coln, Neb.,"  which  would  be  a  signal  to  J.  B.  and  we  would 
set  the  two  explosions  for  the  same  minute.  This  was 
J.  J.  McNamara's  idea.  He  leaned  toward  the  dramatic 
and  thought  it  would  have  a  better  effect  to  have  two 
plants  of  the  same  concern  in  widely  separated  places  de- 
stroyed at  the  same  time. 

I  reached  Omaha  on  March  21  and  registered  as  G. 
Woods  at  the  Murray  hotel.  On  the  morning  of  March  23 
I  sent  the  telegram.  I  set  two  shots  in  the  basement  of 
the  court  house  at  8  p.  m.  to  explode  at  4  a.  m.  and  arrived 
in  Indianapolis  at  3  a.  m.  March  25,  registering  at  the  Stub- 
bins  hotel  as  Frank  Fisher. 

Both  explosions  were  successful  and  caused  a  good  deal 
of  comment  in  the  newspapers,  and  activity  in  the  Erectors' 
Association  and  among  Burns  detectives,  but  on  J.  J.'s  or- 
der I  went  immediately  to  Boston  with  forty  sticks,  hunt- 
ing for  the  municipal  group  of  buildings  at  Springfield. 
I  arrived  at  Springfield  on  the  evening  of  March  30  and 
registered  at  the  Henking  house  as  William  Lynch.  I 
set  the  shot  on  the  evening  of  April  3  in  the  tower,  to 
take  place  at  2  a.  m.,  April  4.  I  left  Springfield  at  8  p.  m. 
and  arrived  at  Utica,  N.  Y.,  at  2  a.  m.,  registering  at  the 

85 


Baggs  hotel  as  William  Foster,  at  the  very  minute  the  ex- 
plosion took  place  in  Springfield.  I  arrived  at  Indianapolis 
on  April  7  at  3  a.  m.,  bringing  with  me  45  sticks  of  dyna- 
mite from  the  Tiffin  cache.  As  I  was  putting  these  sticks 
in  the  vault  in  the  American  Central  Life  building  I  saw 
a  man  peering  at  me  from  behind  the  elevator  shaft.  I 
told  J.  J.  of  this  and  said  I  thought  it  was  a  detective.  J.  J. 
laughed  and  reminded  me  of  the  proverb  about  a  guilty 
conscience,  but  I  was  worried. 

J.  J.  wanted  his  brother  and  me  to  go  to  Detroit  and 
look  over  a  number  of  buildings  there  to  see  what  we  could 
do  with  them  but  my  little  son  was  sick  and  I  went  to 
Chicago,  with  an  appointment  to  meet  J.  B.  in  Toledo  on 
April  11.  Before  I  left  J.  J.  showed  me  a  letter  from 
Caldwell  &  Drake,  whose  work  we  had  just  "double  shot- 
ted," stating  that  they  were  beginning  a  reinforced  con- 
crete job  near  Oklahoma  City  and  that  if  McNamara  con- 
sidered that  as  bridge  work,  they  would  be  glad  to  unionize 
the  job. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  and  smiled,  "we've  got  the  little 
ones  and  we'll  get  after  the  big  ones  hard."  That  was  the 
last  time  I  ever  saw  J.  J.  smile. 

J.  B.  laid  out  a  plan  to  put  a  bomb  in  Detective  W.  J. 
Burns'  desk,  so  arranged  that  the  opening  of  the  desk  would 
explode  a  quart  or  two  of  glycerine.  I  said  that  it  could 
not  be  done,  that  Burns'  office  must  be  too  closely  guarded 
and  that,  as  it  would  kill,  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  At  that  time,  I  believe,  J.  B.  simply  wanted  to  kill; 
it  made  no  difference  whom. 

I  arrived  in  Chicago  on  April  8,  1911.  My  boy  was  bet- 
ter. My  family  and  Mrs.  McGuire  went  down  town  that 
night  and  I  bought  a  pair  of  shoes.  I  learned  later  that 
Detective  MacLaren  was  in  the  store  at  the  time. 

86 


In  the  afternoon  of  April  11,  I  left  Chicago  for  Toledo, 
arriving  there  at  8:40  p.  m.  and  met  J.  B.  We  registered 
at  the  Myershoff  hotel,  J.  B.  as  Charles  Caldwell  and  I 
as  G.  Foster.  We  had  room  11,  a  strange  string  of  coin- 
cidences; Room  11,  April  11,  1911,  the  eve  of  our  arrest. 
The  next  day  we  went  to  Detroit,  arriving  just  before  noon 
and  registering  at  the  Oxford  hotel  under  the  names  we 
had  used  at  Toledo.  J.  B.  had  in  his  handbag  some  fuse 
and  caps  and  we  checked  our  bags  at  the  parcel  room. 

The  hotel  was  being  renovated  and  we  were  not  assigned 
to  rooms.  J.  B.  and  I  got  a  drink  at  the  hotel  bar  and 
as  we  returned  to  the  lobby  a  theater  troup  was  registering. 
We  started  out  of  the  front  door  to  walk  about  when  a 
big  man  who  proved  to  be  Guy  Biddinger,  formerly  ser- 
geant of  police  detectives  in  Chicago  and  now  chief  of  the 
criminal  bureau  for  the  W.  J.  Burns  Detective  Agency, 
grabbed  me  and  turned  me  around  quickly.  I  then  faced 
a  man  who  held  a  revolver  at  my  stomach.  On  the  street 
J.  B.  was  fighting  desperately  with  two  other  men  who 
quickly  subdued  him.  Guests  in  the  hotel  started  to  in- 
terfere but  Biddinger,  who  was  in  charge  of  the  detectives, 
and  who  conducted  the  arrest  along  the  only  lines  that 
could  have  made  it  successful,  calmed  them  by  telling  them 
that  his  men  were  secret  service  agents  and  that  we  were 
wanted  for  safe  blowing.  That  also  calmed  me  for  I  saw 
an  alibi. 

They  took  us  direct  to  the  Michigan  Central  depot,  where 
a  train  was  about  to  leave  for  Chicago.  There  J.  B.  yelled 
that  he  was  being  kidnapped  and  a  uniformed  policeman 
interfered.  I  heard  the  story  Biddinger  told  him.  and  then 
I  knew  I  had  an  alibi  for  I  was  buying  that  pair  of  shoes 
about  the  time  he  said  the  safe  was  blown.  The  result 
of  the  policeman's  interference  was  that  we  were  taken 

87 


to  police  headquarters  where  later  in  the  day  we  signed 
extradition  waivers  and  left  that  night  for  Chicago.  I  was 
booked  at  the  station  under  my  true  name,  J.  B.  as  Frank 
Sullivan. 

The  men  who  were  with  Biddinger  were  MacLaren,  Ray- 
mond Burns  and  Police  Detective  Billy  Reed  of  Chicago. 

I  was  put  in  an  upper  berth.  J.  B.  sat  on  the  lower 
berth  after  it  was  made  up  and,  after  questioning  the 
detectives  for  some  time,  said : 

"I  know  what  you  want.  You  want  to  take  me  to  Los 
Angeles  and  hang  me.  But  I'll  prove  that  the  Times  build- 
ing was  blown  up  by  gas." 

I  reached  my  hand  down  and  grabbed  him  by  the  hair. 

"Do  you  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  I  said. 

He  got  up  and  strode  down  the  aisle. 

"You're  damn  right  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about," 
he  said.  "You  go  to  sleep." 

"I  got  the  whole  federation  of  labor  behind  me,"  he  con- 
tinued, raving. 

He  offered  $5000  to  be  allowed  to  escape,  or  for  my  es- 
cape. Five  thousand  at  a  time,  he  raised  his  offer  to  $30,- 
000,  but  of  course  he  made  no  impression.  He  told  the 
detectives  that  if  they  did  not  get  the  $30,000  Clarence 
Darrow  would.  He  then  began  to  threaten  the  detectives 
with  the  vengeance  of  "the  gang."  It  all  amounted  to  noth- 
ing and  we  were  taken  from  the  train  at  South  Chicago 
and  by  automobile  to  the  home  of  Detective  Billy  Reed. 
There  J.  B.  and  I  were  placed,  handcuffed  together,  in 
a  room,  with  a  detective.  J.  B.  asked  the  latter  to  leave 
the  room  and  let  him  talk  to  me  privately.  This  was 
refused  but  the  officer  moved  out  of  ear  shot  and  I  asked 
J.  B.  how  we  were  going  to  stand  on  the  thing.  I  now 
realized  that  we  were  up  against  it  for  fair  and  that  it 


was  dynamiting  and  not  safe  blowing  that  we  must  answer 
for.  J.  B.  said: 

"Every  man  for  himself." 

"All  right,"  I  replied.  "I'm  done  with  you."  I  asked 
the  officer  to  loosen  me  from  J.  B.  and  this  was  done  and 
J.  B.  taken  from  the  room. 

In  the  afternoon  Detective  Burns  came  to  the  house 
and  talked  with  me.  He  advised  me  as  to  my  rights,  of- 
fered to  get  any  lawyer  I  wanted  and  told  me  he  could 
make  no  promises  of  immunity  and  that  whatever  I  said 
would  be  used  against  me. 

"You  can  talk  to  rne  if  you  wish,"  he  said,  "and  I'll 
listen.  If  you  talk  to  a  lawyer  I'm  done  with  you." 

"I  want  just  one  promise,"  I  said.  "Will  you  take  care 
of  my  wife  and  children  if  I  make  a  full  confession?" 

He  said  that  he  would  care  for  them  as  long  as  my  wife 
stayed  with  me  on  the  story. 

"Call  in  your  stenographer,"  I  said  and  I  talked  from  8 
o'clock  in  the  evening  until  4  in  the  morning.  Without 
details  of  our  work  the  confession  covered  thirty-six  pages 
of  typewriting  and  I  swore  to  it  before  a  notary. 

In  charge  of  Police  Captain  Paul  Flammer  and  Under- 
sheriff  Robert  Brain  of  Los  Angeles,  J.  B.  and  I  left  Chi- 
cago for  Los  Angeles  on  April  22.  On  that  day  William  J. 
Burns  and  his  aide,  Guy  Biddinger,  arrested  J.  J.  McNa- 
mara  at  Indianapolis,  taking  him  into  custody  as  he  sat  in 
a  meeting  of  the  ironworkers'  international  executive  board. 
He  was  placed  aboard  our  train  at  Dodge  City,  Kas.  We 
arrived  at  Pasadena,  Cal.,  April  26,  and  were  taken  from 
there  to  Los  Angeles  by  automobile.  It  was  at  Pasadena 
that  I  had  my  first  experience  with  newspaper  cameras. 
I  had  never  even  seen  one,  and  there  were  twenty  leveled 
it  us  as  we  got  off  the  train. 

89 


On  the  morning  of  April  27  Attorney  Job  Harriman  of 
Los  Angeles,  and  Judge  O.  Hilton,  of  Denver,  who  was 
associated  with  Clarence  Darrow  in  the  Boise  cases,  called 
at  the  county  jail  to  see  me.  I  refused  to  talk  with  them. 
A  few  minutes  later  I  was  taken  to  see  Captain  J.  D.  Fred- 
ericks, district  attorney  for  Los  Angeles  county.  He  ad- 
vised me  as  to  my  rights  and  said  I  could  have  a  lawyer 
if  I  wished,  or  talk  to  him,  but  that  if  I  talked  to  a  lawyer 
he  was  done  with  me.  I  told  him  I  had  confessed  and 
could  prove  the  truth  of  my  confession. 

He  had  in  a  room  with  him  the  suit  case  which  J.  B. 
had  described  to  me  as  the  one  he  had  told  Caplin  to 
get  from  the  San  Francisco  ferry  building  parcel  room. 
He  started  to  open  it  and  I  stopped  him. 

"I'll  prove  some  of  it  now,"  I  said.  I  then  told  him  he 
would  find  in  the  suit  case  a  Schmidt  infernal  machine,  some 
fuse  and  three  copies  of  the  San  Francisco  Bulletin,  dated 
October  1,  2  and  3,  1910.  He  opened  the  case  and  I  was 
correct.  He  then  asked  me  if  I  was  a  Burns  detective. 

During  the  next  few  weeks  I  furnished  the  information 
by  which  the  evidence  in  the  national  dynamite  plot  was 
collected  and  which  was  so  strong  that  thirty-eight  labor 
leaders,  scattered  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco,  were  con- 
victed of  conspiracy  at  the  Indianapolis  trial.  More  than 
500  witnesses  and  thousands  of  pieces  of  documentary  and 
other  physical  evidence  corroborated  my  story. 

Such  are  the  facts  of  the  greatest  plot  to  destroy  that  this 
country  has  ever  seen.  It  has  been  called  a  "frame-up" 
and  I  have  been  called  a  lying  spy  and  traitor.  When  the 
arrests  were  made  labor  throughout  the  country  was  told 
that  the  McNamaras  were  not  guilty  and  that  they  were 
victims  of  a  Burns  conspiracy  to  advertise  a  detective 
agency  and  to  destroy  labor  unions.  On  the  strength  of 

90 


this  they  collected  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  from 
working  men  all  over  the  country,  who  believed  in  their 
innocence.  And  then  they  stood  in  court  and  pleaded 
guilty. 

Even  then  labor  was  not  convinced.  Some  said  Darrow 
had  sold  out.  Darrow  was  tried  for  bribery.  Some  said 
this  was  a  part  of  his  agreement  with  the  district  attorney. 

t;  public  is  indeed  hard  to  convince. 
Jpon  the  heels  of  the  Darrow  trial  came  the  Indianapolis 
1   of  fifty-two   defendants,   thirty-eight   of   whom   were 
convicted.     Then  labor  began  to  think  that  perhaps  after 
all  there  might  be  something  in  McManigal's  story.     Un- 
fortunately, complete  reports  of  the  Indianapolis  trial  were 
not  published  throughout  the  country.     It  is  my  hope  that 
the  circulation  of  my  own  story  will  rectify  this  and  place 
before  labor  in  every  city  and  village  of  the  United  States, 
the  real  facts  concerning  this  plot. 

I  have  already  expressed  my  sentiments  regarding  the 
work  that  was  done.  It  was  crime  and  not  war,  and  it 
was  useless  and  could  have  served  no  good  purpose,  had 
every  charge  we  set  done  the  work  hoped  for  and  had  we 
been  left  unmolested,  to  carry  owt  our  work  unto  the  end 
of  time.  Labor  in  the  mass  must  realize  this ;  must  purge 
itself  of  leaders  whose  propaganda  is  of  violence,  and  se- 
cure the  services  of  men  for  leaders  who  will  secure  their 
ends  by  legislation  and  diplomacy  and  not  by  crime  and 
violence. 


91 


